Chaos by Request
by Mrs.InsaneOne
Summary: Disillusioned with the Post-War Wizarding World and three-ring circus his life has become, Harry decides to find a way to change all that he feels went wrong in his life. AU, time travel, no pairings, & mentions of abuse. COMPLETE
1. Prologue: Dropping the Proverbial Pebble

**The Bunny's Name:** Tim E. Turner – skips backwards, hops sideways, and rolls forwards in a zigzagging pattern with no discernible path. He is a touch absentminded and completely unorganized, but he is eager to please.

**Disclaimer: **_All HP characters are the property of JKR, the WB, and respective publishing companies - this is nothing more than a simple FanFiction that I have written. I have made no money from this or any of the other stories I have posted on this or other sites._

**Warnings: **_Mentions of abuse, character death, character bashing, sensitive topics/themes, language, alternate universe, angst, drama, and explosive removal of anything resembling HP Canon. _**  
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**AN1:** _I would like to take this time to warn you that this will not be a warm and fuzzy kind of story. It starts out somewhat darkish before it lightens up towards the end. There will be mentions, especially in the early chapters, of child cruelty that borders on abuse, outright abuse, corporeal punishment, and scenes with mild to moderate mental and emotional abuse. If that bothers you, don't read this story._ **You have been warned.** _I will say that there will not be any very graphic or detailed descriptions of said abuse, but it is glaringly obvious when it occurs. There will also be, at one point, a fairly detailed list of injuries that are a direct result of said abuse._

_Finally, I would like to give credit for the birth of the plot bunny of this story to Radaslab (30 minutes I & II and the Harem War), bellerophon30 (__Harry Potter and the Final Straw), robst (Knowledge is Power, Can't Have it Both Ways, and In This World and the Next), and the authors of many other similar FanFictions I have read here and on other sites. Thank you all for inspiring me after a long dry spell of writer's block. And while they inspired me I did my best not to copy their ideas but with the huge number of time travel stories out there it is inevitable that some of what you will read will be familiar - it was in no way intentional but I've read thousands of FanFictions and thousands of books published by hundreds of authors; keeping all of them straight in my head and separate from my original ideas is near impossible.  
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**AN2:** _Story beta'd by my R/L daughter Sillyhobbit_.

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><p><em><strong>Chaos by Request<strong>**  
><strong>**Chapter 1: Prologue – Dropping the Proverbial Pebble**_

_February 26, 2020 11:45 PM_

Thirty-nine year old Harry Potter climbed to his feet with a groan before stretching out his cramped muscles. He'd just spent the last twenty-four hours straight on his knees on the hard stone floor of the basement under his house, carving an intricate circle of runes into stones. Shaking the life back into his tortured limbs, he studied the rune arrays to insure he had not made any mistakes in their order or alignments. Satisfied that he'd done his job correctly, he used his wand to gently blow the stone dust and chips scattered around his circle into the nearest corner before vanishing the waste. Next he filled a nearby bucket with warm water from his wand and proceeded to wash the floor in Muggle fashion, paying close attention to the ritual circle he had carved into the floor. When he finished, he rinsed it off with a near boiling stream of water from his wand and spelled the entire floor dry.

The rune carvings stood out palely in contrast to the dark, well worn, and stained stone blocks that made up the floor of the basement. After a quick glance at his watch to check the time, he knelt back down beside the circle and began deepening the carvings and smoothing out any rough edges using a charmed chisel designed to slice through stone as easily as a knife cut through butter. Methodically, he worked his way around the circle, taking care to not skip over any of the runes, slowly working on turning each etched rune into a one inch wide and three inch deep trough would hold liquids or fine powders in a specific shape. After he'd done the first two, he glanced at the remaining runes in the overly large and intricate circle and bit back a groan before shaking out his sore hands and getting back to work.

_February 27, 2020 11:45 PM _

Harry had just finished his second twenty-four hours straight of carving. He'd completed four more turns around the circle, making certain that each and every rune had a depth of exactly three inches and smoothing the sides so that each rune would roughly hold the same amount of liquid. After each trip around the circle, Harry would get up and stretch before cleaning the stone shards from the floor and washing out the runes by hand. It had been a tedious task to say the least, but it was a task that Harry willingly undertook after spending well over fifteen years researching this particular ritual.

Without stopping to rest for once, he cleaned the rune circle one last time taking special care that no dust, water, or stone chip remained inside the carvings. He then got back down on his knees and pulled out a large bottle of neutralizing gel and a half inch paint brush made from the tails hairs of a newborn unicorn (freely given) out of the left side pocket of his robes. Gently, he opened the bottle and dipped the tip of the brush inside, coating it evenly with the thick, clear substance.

Dropping down onto his belly, he carefully began coating the inner walls of the runes with the solution. It took him seven hours and seven bottles of solution to coat each of the eighteen hundred and eighty-one runes that made up the circle. The next step repeated the entire process, this time with a solution made from a mixture of pure silver, ground moonseeds, powdered unicorn horn, holy water, and virgin olive oil. An additional seven hours later, he trudged upstairs into the small kitchen and announced that the circle had finally been finished to the two individuals brewing at the table.

He then dropped down into the nearest chair and spent a couple hours dozing lightly while the wrinkled old house elf and elderly gentleman worked on finishing the highly complicated brewing of the ritualistic potion that would be poured into the rune carvings of the circle once it was finished and the silver based coating on the runes had dried completely.

_February 28, 2020 5:45 PM_

Harry woke up reluctantly as his long time house elf, Kreacher, shook his leg to get his attention. He thanked the elf kindly and headed upstairs to his bedroom to shower and put on a clean set of silver and white robes. He returned to the kitchen twenty-five minutes later, carrying two sterilized vials and a silver ceremonial dagger etched down the blade with purity runes. Setting both vials carefully down on the table, Harry turned to face Kreacher as the elf watched him intently.

"Are you sure you wish to do this, Kreacher?"

"Kreacher be certain."

Harry nodded and gently took the elf's right hand in his and used the knife to slice the elf's palm open just enough to allow the elf's blood to flow freely. Quickly, Harry set aside the knife and picked up one of the vials to collect the blood before more than a drop could splash down onto the floor. Once the vial was full, he capped it with a silver tipped cork and helped heal Kreacher's small, gnarled hand. After he was sure the cut would not be ripped back open during the ceremony later that night, he spent a moment cleaning the elf's blood from the knife before slicing open his own palm and filling the second vial with his own blood. Kreacher than healed his wounded hand for him in turn before handing him a bottle of pepper-up potion to help him stay awake for the ceremony that would take place later that evening.

The rest of the night Harry spent packing everything Kreacher would need to take with him when he was sent on his journey. Each item was securely wrapped in its own packaging and placed into a special overnight bag with strategically placed sticking charms that would insure they weren't lost or banged around too much while Kreacher was en route to his destination.

At seven-thirty, Harry collected the still warm caldron of finished potion, and carried it downstairs where he first checked to see if the silver lining of the runes had dried, before immediately ladling the watery concoction carefully into each of runes until there was exactly one inch of free space left inside them. The potion swirled gently as it settled down into the bottom of the runes, an iridescent sheen ominously snaking across its surface continuously in the dull light of the oil lamps that lit the basement.

Any extra potion remaining inside the cauldron was quickly vanished when the last rune had been filled. Harry then returned to the kitchen and double checked the bag of items he'd packed. Hoping he'd remembered to pack everything they'd agreed would be needed, he sealed the bag and sat down to write out two separate letters; one that would be delivered by the traveling elf shortly after arriving at his destination and the other to be given to the recipient on a specific date and time. He was joined at the table by the elderly gentleman who'd helped brew the potion for the ritual.

"Anything I can help you with, son?"

Trevor Matheson had quickly become Harry's closest friend and mentor during the previous fifteen years. Harry had come to think of Trevor as a father figure or close uncle shortly after stumbling into him on a busy London street, while the older man treated Harry as practically part of his family from the first moment he'd seen him. Trevor had at one time, revealed that he was somewhat distantly related to Harry through marriage on his father's side; he'd been married to a cousin of his grandfather's back during the first rise of Voldemort.

The man freely admitted to being what was considered a high level squib, he had more magic than Argus Filch or Arabella Figg but he was completely unable to use a wand, and a lawyer who was well versed in both wizarding and muggle laws that Harry had met during the lowest time in his life. Trevor had eventually helped Harry out of his depression and the two worked extensively to get to this point in time.

"Nothing I can think of, Trev," Harry replied after a moment's pause. "It's just kind of hard to believe we've finally reached this point. After all the research…"

"I understand," Trevor murmured gently.

Harry swallowed thickly before adding tiredly, "I find it so hard to hold onto the hope that things will get better, can be made so much better then they were. So many, so very many, things have gone wrong, in my life and in others… and now here we are… standing at the edge of the abyss… and I'm so scared that what we are doing isn't the answer I've been looking for over the last two decades…"

"Get a hold of yourself, son," Trevor admonished thickly and somewhat sharply. "Don't allow your insecurities to catch hold or we'll be sunk before we can truly begin. Be strong, hold fast to your course, and pray for mercy. But don't doubt yourself, especially after we're nearly ready to begin."

"Thanks, Trev," Harry rejoined sincerely, with a soft smile ghosting across his features. "I really needed to hear that. I know in my heart I am not afraid; whatever the outcome will be. I guess I'm just feeling the strain of being awake for over seventy-two hours straight, since my catnap earlier can't really be considered sleep."

Trevor smiled in his direction and the two men allowed the silence to surround them once more as they settled back to await the arrival of the witching hour.

_February 28, 2020 11:45 PM_

The alarm on Harry's watch beeped loudly; he silently turned it off and slowly rose to his feet before gathering up the packed bag of supplies from the table. He then approached Kreacher and reluctantly handed the magically enhanced overnight bag to the elderly house elf. He helped the elf secure the strap of the bag over his chest and shoulder, before giving said shoulder an affectionate squeeze with his hand.

"I've packed the food items you prepared yesterday, all of the evidence of the crimes against me that we were able to gather, several artifacts, documents, and photos to help prove that you are who you say you are and that you speak the truth, as well as half of the former Black fortune that Trevor had converted into Muggle currency, I made sure to pull the ones from years dated later than the year of my birth so there shouldn't be any trouble with them, so that you will be able to provide for yourself and your charge. That will negate the need for you to venture out into the magical world with your charge before he's ready. There is also a small box containing shrunken books that will be useful to you and the boy as well as three packages of healing potions and a box of warm muggle clothes," Harry informed the elf, who simply nodded in return. "Here is the letter for your charge, to be given to him on his eleventh birthday, and one for our friend as soon as you've made first contact with the boy."

Kreacher solemnly accepted the two envelopes with another nod and tucked them into his faded bath towel uniform. "Kreacher promises to see they are delivered. Kreacher will not fail, Master Harry."

"I know you won't, Kreacher," Harry agreed as he squatted down to look the diminutive elf in the eye. "You've served me well, these many years, and I will never forget you. Nor will I ever forget the sacrifice you are taking by going in my place tonight."

Kreacher made a soft keening sound as he lunged forward and hugged Harry tightly around the neck. Harry gently returned the hug and the two sat there for several long minutes just taking comfort in the contact, both knowing this would be the last time saw each other; regardless of whether they were successful or not tonight. Reluctantly they pulled apart a few minutes later, both struggling to control their emotions now that the moment had arrived for their plans to be carried out.

Trevor coughed discretely to get their attention before announcing; "It's time to begin."

Harry and Kreacher simply nodded in response as they followed the older man out of the kitchen and down into the basement where the huge circle made up of potion filled runes had been painstakingly carved into the stone floor. Kreacher gathered a few of his most prized possessions and tucked them into various pockets in the uniform he wore before entering the circle and taking a seat in the exact center of the diagram.

"Kreacher is ready, Master Harry," Kreacher wheezed.

Harry nodded an acknowledgement as he began to run his wand over each rune to charge it with his magic. The moment the fully charged rune began to glow he would place exactly seven drops of his blood, from the vial he filled earlier, into the rune before moving on to the next one in the series. When he completed the full circle, the room began to glow with an eerie red light.

"Kreacher the House Elf, you have been charged with a task of greatest importance and even greater risk," Trevor intoned ceremoniously as he traded places with Harry at the starting rune, a bag of finely ground quartz crystals cradled in one hand. "Do you accept this task of your own free will?"

"Kreacher accepts, Master Lawyer Matheson," Kreacher replied calmly.

Trevor nodded and began sprinkling the powdered crystal over top of the blood and magic charged runes as he chanted repeatedly in Latin. When he reached the end of the circle, he tucked away the bag of quartz and pulled out the small vial containing Kreacher's blood that Harry had collected.

"Who here charges Kreacher the House Elf with this task of greatest importance and even greater risk?"

"I, Harry James Potter, Head of the Ancient and Noble Houses of Potter and Black, do so charge Kreacher the House Elf."

"Then take this blood, freely given by Kreacher the House Elf, and add it to the runes so that he may be bound to his task as charged," Trevor ordered as he passed the vial to Harry.

Harry accepted the blood and proceeded to charge the runes a second time, this time sealing each one with three drops of the elf's blood from the vial as Trevor once more chanted in Latin. The runes lit up with a sickly, pale green light when he reached his starting point and poured the very last drop of blood into place.

"Who will witness this pact that charges Kreacher the Elf with his task?" Harry demanded as he faced the inner circle where Kreacher sat still as a statue, his small body frozen in place by the magic of the ritual.

"I, Trevor Lynn Wenlock Matheson, stand as witness to this binding," Trevor answered as he began to dust the runes a second time with the quartz while Harry chanted in Latin this time.

The room pulsed with magic with each step Trevor took around the circle, each rune flaring a vivid blue before fading back to the pale green as the quartz powder was placed over it. As he reached the final rune, he slit the palm of both hands with the same knife Harry had used to draw his and Kreacher's blood, and placed his now bloody hands directly on top of the first and last rune in the sequence – sealing the circle closed with his blood and the limited magic that flowed through him.

The rune circle flashed bright blue, a loud thunder clap rang through the room, and Kreacher's body vanished in a cloud of thick smoke. As the smoke cleared the light of the runes slowly faded out of existence and both Harry and Trevor sank to the ground exhausted, panting heavily in an effort to catch their breath.

"Merlin willing, Kreacher will end up where and when he needs to be," Harry gasped roughly as he rolled over onto his back and closed his eyes.

Memories that he'd kept bottled up inside him for the past twenty-two years broke loose inside of him as he allowed himself to truly feel hope that things would finally be put right. Before he could become too caught up in the past he hoped to change, Harry was startled out of his thoughts as Trevor began to scream in pain. Jerking his eyes open, he turned his gaze towards the man who had stood by him through the last fifteen years and gasped in shock at what he saw.

Trevor was thrashing where he had fallen, his body being shredded alive by a backlash of the magic that had powered the runic ritual. Harry crawled forward with his wand held ready and a healing spell on the tip of his tongue, intent on helping his friend, when he felt his own body being attacked by the violent magic. All too soon his voice rose out sharply as his own body was caught up in unbearable pain while his screams joined those of Trevor's.

His last thought, before his soul was obliterated completely, was that they had miscalculated. His only comfort was the knowledge that their failure was also tearing the fabric of reality apart and destroying the entire known universe with them. The knowledge that he was getting his revenge against those who had betrayed him was almost as satisfying as successfully going back in time and changing his past for the better.

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> _And so it begins... I don't think anyone else has ever sent Kreacher back in time before though I know someone has sent Dobby back (I found that story after I'd written half of this one). I will say that I am confident that this won't be like most other time-travel stories since I tried to avoid most of the 'Harry or Hermione or whoever jumped back suddenly knows everything and the world is going to be just fine because they are going to kick butt and take names' cliches that are out there. Hope you enjoyed the first chapter, next chapter will be up tomorrow, and the day after that I'll be posting on Wizard's World again. ~ Jenn  
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	2. Kreachers Arrival & Subsequent Departure

**Disclaimer: **_All HP characters are the property of JKR, the WB, and respective publishing companies - this is nothing more than a simple FanFiction that I have written. I have made no money from this or any of the other stories I have posted on this or other sites._

**AN:** _Story beta'd by my R/L daughter Sillyhobbit_.

**Note: **_The views and actions expressed by the Dursleys in chapter are in no way, shape or form endorsed or promoted by me, the author, of this story. The abuse, both borderline and blatant, mentioned is simply used to portray one of the many possible relationships that Harry might have had with his relatives while growing up._

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><p><em><strong><span>Chapter 2: Kreacher's Arrival &amp; Subsequent Departure<span>**_

_February 28, 1984 08:45 PM_

A small, timid boy lay sobbing softly in the pitch blackness that filled the tiny little cupboard that was his room. His tiny little fingers fisted deeply in his messy black hair, his emerald green, bloodshot eyes locked firmly behind his eyelids, and his face buried deep into the thin, worn out pillow he was allowed to use. His bum felt as if it was on fire, a direct result of his Uncle Vernon dishing out what the large man had called a well deserved spanking just before supper time. What he'd done to earn this particular punishment the little boy couldn't quite say and if his uncle had taken the time to tell him during his spanking, he hadn't heard or understood him.

Sniffling, the little boy turned his head gently to the side; the movement revealing what he had been hiding in the pillow. Splashed across his gaunt face was a bright red, slightly bruised, and welted handprint that covered his mouth and part of his left cheek. His Aunt Petunia had slapped him quite hard when he had carelessly blurted out a question about his mother and father after lunch. She'd slapped him a second time, not quite so hard as that first time, when he started crying after the first one, before he was sent to his room for the rest of the day. That, he knew, he had earned because questions were forbidden. It was the first golden rule they'd taught him after he'd found himself rather abruptly placed in the custody of his aunt and uncle.

This first rule was a difficult rule for the boy to learn, for all children are seemingly born with an unquenchable curiosity, but he was learning it as quickly as he could and after nearly three years, he rarely ever slipped up like he had this morning. Sometimes he just couldn't seem to stop himself though and today had been one of those times. He had been desperately missing his mummy and daddy and been filled with a burning desire to find out when they would be coming to take him home. His aunt had been less than pleased to say the least.

The second golden rule was one he had just recently begun learning; he was never to cry in front of his relatives during or after any earned punishment. He was forbidden to give displays of any other type of emotion as well. This was an exceptionally hard rule for the boy to learn, even harder than burying his intense desire to know _everything_ about the world around him. He didn't like being spanked or smacked for breaking the rules, it usually hurt and ached for a while; though he rarely ever bruised after the not so gentle smacks (or if he did they faded fast) and what he didn't know was that it was that strangeness that secretly frightened his aunt and uncle. There were other signs that the boy was different than his relatives and it upset his aunt and uncle something fierce; even though the boy had no clue what it was he was doing. So when they punished him for freakishness, he had no clue what they meant; only that he'd done something wrong and could expect to spend at least a day or two locked in his room so they wouldn't have to look at him.

His cousin Dudley, on the other hand, didn't to have to follow the same rules as he did (the older, fatter boy was allowed to throw tantrums, scream shrilly, or keep up a steady stream of question driven chattering). That, of course, only added to the little nameless boy's confusion on what was being demanded of him by his aunt and uncle. The one time he'd tried pointing out the fact that Dudley always did the things they said were not allowed, he'd been thrown across the room and found his hide thoroughly tanned by his uncle's belt.

Twisting onto his side, the boy closed his eyes and tried to go to sleep, doing his best to ignore his discomfort and the unending stream of unanswered questions that filtered through his consciousness.

_February 29, 1984 12:01 AM_

The child was half drifting between sobs when his tiny room suddenly filled to the brim with blue smoke. A small pop sounded, and something landed across his legs, startling the boy enough that he whimpered in terror and retreated to the farthest reaches of his cupboard.

"Kreacher not like traveling that way. Kreacher does not like it one bit," the being grumbled in a rough whisper as it righted itself and began searching the tiny space it had arrived in. When it turned its giant, tennis ball eyes in the child's direction, the boy let out a strangled '_eep_' and tried to burrow deeper into the cramped space under the lower stairs.

"Kreacher wonders what young Master Harry is doing hiding in the room of a house elf," the being muttered as he continued to stare at the small boy. "Master Harry should not be frightened of old Kreacher. Kreacher here to help. Kreacher sent by great friend."

The boy, who no longer really remembered his true name or even that he had a real name (having never heard it once he'd woken up in the care of his aunt and uncle three years earlier), simply stared in fear at the strange being while he continued to edge back into the smallest corner of his cupboard.

"Kreacher not doing very good job so far," the creature suddenly announced. "Young Master Harry needs not hide in tiny space. Kreacher will fix." With a snap of the being's fingers, the boy was floated out of his hiding spot and returned to his lumpy mattress with a soft plop. The elf than grinned happily at the boy, "That be much better... noackkk…"

Whatever else the elf had been trying to say died on his lips as he doubled over in pain before falling to the floor and thrashing around. The next thing the boy knew, the strange being exploded into dust right before his eyes (and practically in his lap), leaving nothing behind but the bag it had been wearing, an old necklace, and two envelopes that floated wildly about the cupboard until they touched the ground. Terrified beyond words, the child screamed shrilly in terror before clamping his hands over his mouth and turning to look up at the ceiling of his cupboard in horror.

At the sound of the first thundering footsteps landing on the stairs above, the child burst into frenzied action, quickly shoving the elf's bag into the cramped space he'd tried to hide himself in earlier before jamming the necklace and thick envelopes under his ratty pillow. He'd just managed to throw himself back down on his makeshift bed when the door to his room was torn open to reveal his extremely angry uncle squatting just outside his room.

The boy whimpered fearfully as he was dragged roughly out of the cupboard by his arm (the bones in his wrist cracking in two places under the unknowingly, or uncaringly, harsh grip of the large man) and was promptly thrown belly down over his uncle's knees. "I will not have you disturbing our sleep any longer, Boy," his uncle bit out as he punctuated each word with a powerful, sharp swat on the boy's already aching behind. "Freaks like you are to be silent and invisible! Do you understand, Boy?"

The boy nodded quickly, his tears barely held in check at the drastically escalated pain radiating from his rear end. Satisfied, his uncle imparted one final swat and shoved the child blindly back into the cupboard and told him to stay there until his aunt said he could come out.

Alone in the dark again once more, the tiny boy allowed his tears to fall freely once more. His choking sobs swallowed up by his hand-me-down, sweat stained pillow as he lay belly down on the thin crib mattress that was his bed and cried himself to sleep with his wrist, face, and bum burning and throbbing harshly with each beat of his heart.

_April 29, 1984 7:00 AM_

For two long, hard months the boy was all but imprisoned within the cramped cupboard under the stairs. He'd only been allowed out of his room once a day, first thing in the morning, in order to change his own soiled diaper (for during his punishments he was not permitted to wear real underwear due to the fact that he was not allowed out to use the bathroom throughout the day). After changing his diaper, he was fed a single slice of toast and half an ounce of hard cheese each morning for breakfast. And after spending the entire day in the dark cupboard, he was given a tiny bowl of near rotten fruits or veggies in the evenings along with no more than five stale crackers and a half glass of water.

He'd ended up crying himself to sleep off and on in the beginning; his poor stomach cramping constantly with hunger most of the time while his thoroughly paddled butt and hairline fractured wrist throbbed continually for the first two weeks of his punishment. After that, the pain slowly began to fade into the background as his injuries healed haphazardly and his stomach shrank until it grew accustomed to the smaller, less frequent, and wholly inedible meals.

Right from the start, about once a week, he was taken into the upstairs bathroom before his diaper was scheduled to be changed and placed inside the curtained tub where he was hosed down, still fully clothed, in the shower with ice cold water to reduce the growing stench of bodily fluids and human waste that clung to him. He'd then be ordered to put on a clean diaper before being returned, not quite sopping wet, to his tiny cupboard.

After the first four weeks had passed, his aunt started to bring him out twice a day; once to change his diaper in the morning and once to perform chores around the house after the sun had set. These chores would include picking up after his older cousin, scrubbing the kitchen and bathroom floors with old toothbrushes, polishing the wooden hallway floors by hand with a two inch square of old terrycloth, or pulling out weeds in the backyard under the sharp eyes of his aunt after sunset.

Six weeks into his punishment, his Aunt Petunia finally tired of him smelling like an overused outhouse and commanded he strip out of the clothes he was wearing and get into the tub of cold water and scrub himself down with lump of harsh homemade lye soap. While he was in the tub (unsupervised) his aunt threw his soiled clothes into the rubbish bin and replaced them with some old rags that used to be Dudley's clothes before his cousin outgrew them several years earlier. His daily diaper changes were then doubled to include one before his breakfast and one before was released from his cupboard to complete his nightly chores.

During the entire time of his confinement, and usually on the nights of the days he was showered, Harry received additional – butt bared – spankings from his uncle as further punishment. All the while he was bent over his uncle's knee or lap he was lectured on the rules he was to follow. Informed repeatedly; to not ask questions, to not open his mouth to speak unless he was given permission, to show no emotions (unless it was proper fear and respect of his family), and to never disturb the family.

He was the freak.  
>He did not deserve a name.<br>He needed to be punished.  
>And he wasn't worth half a cent.<p>

The only solace the boy found was in what he now considered to be his treasures. These were the items that had been left behind when the weird being exploded into dust shortly after arriving on that long ago night that ended with him earning his two-month long punishment. He'd spend hour after hour tracing a finger over the letters scrawled on the front of the envelopes, wondering what kind of stories the squiggles and lines could tell him and who had drawn the pretty shapes. During this time he'd recall a faint memory from long ago of having a name, a wonderfully real name, that his mother, when he'd had a mother, had called him. The same name, though he'd not remembered at the time, that the strange being had used several times before disappearing suddenly after arriving on that fateful night inside his cramped room.

Other times he'd delicately run his fingers along the engravings that covered the surface of the locket he'd discovered attached to the chain of the necklace, chasing the various swirls and frills with intense concentration, exploring the harsh edges of the rough cut gemstones that adorned the front, or simply sit opening and closing the door of the locket repeatedly while listening to the soft '_snicking_' sound the catch made when it was pushed shut.

Though he often stared longingly at his biggest treasure, he didn't dare open and explore the contents of the strange bag, there was no telling what he would find on the inside or if he would be caught red handed, so to speak, in the act by one of his relatives. So the bag of potential treasures remained safely tucked in the deepest, darkest shadows of his cupboard, where only he could see the vaguest impression of an outline in the near permanent darkness that he lived within.

On this morning, exactly two months after his punishment began, the boy was informed that he could go take a second cold bath and change into a pair of real underwear as he would no longer be confined strictly to his cupboard all day long. It was also the first time in two months that he was allowed to use the toilet like a real person, a veritable treat for the small boy who'd been forced to sit in his own waste much of the time during the time he was grounded.

When he returned downstairs, dressed once more in a fresh ensemble made up of too large castoffs, he was given two pieces of dry toast and a shriveled apple and directed to take his usual seat underneath the table and eat quickly. The veritable feast, compared to his previous meals, nearly made him sick to his stomach as he quickly devoured the food as instructed.

When he finished, he diligently picked up any and all crumbs before crawling out from under the table and presenting himself to his aunt. He was then shown how to dust the legs of the various coffee tables around the house and admonished to pay special attention to the dust trapped inside the groves carved into the wood. He had earned a new chore now that he was no longer on restriction.

In some ways, the boy longed for the days of his confinement, just so he could spend the time alone admiring his few stolen treasures.

_June 23, 1984 11:15 AM_

Today was Dudley's fifth birthday and Aunt Petunia was throwing him a huge party in celebration of being enrolled in his first kindergarten class at the local primary school. The green eyed boy had spent the last three days endlessly helping his aunt clean the house from top to bottom so that everything could be just perfect for her Precious Diddykin's Big Day.

And so, the nameless boy had buffed the linoleum tiles and wooden floors until they shone, scrubbed the hard water deposits and dirt stains from all of the tubs, sinks, and toilets, brushed every last bit of loose fuzz from the carpets in the drawing room, dusted each piece of furniture in the house (twice), cleaned up the messes in his cousin's two rooms (while Dudley yelled at him and punched him for touching his things), weeded the flower beds in the front yard (this was done during the nighttime hours so the neighbors couldn't seem him, of course), and polished the silver under his aunt's shrewd supervision while she decorated the dining room and cooked all of Dudley's favorite foods and treats for the party.

The party was due to start in less than an hour and the boy could at this moment be found setting out fancy paper plates, paper cups, napkins and plastic forks, around the table as directed by his aunt. As he worked, he stared enviously at the multitude of brilliant decorations that filled the room and covetously eyed the large pile of lovingly wrapped presents that sat evocatively on the buffet just across the room from where he stood.

The boy longed to run his fingers across the tightly bound paper and shiny ribbons and bows that decorated the various boxes. He dared not even breathe any where near the gifts though, not if he valued his life in any way. He'd been warned away firmly, and repeatedly, since Aunt Petunia first dragged him out of his bed before the dawn just that morning. As if just thinking about her magically summoned her presence, his aunt minced into the room carrying her best and largest crystal punchbowl filled to the brim with a special punch made from clear soda, fruit juice, and rainbow sherbet chilled to perfection (which just so happened to be one of Dudley's favorite drinks) that she strategically placed in the center of the table. She surveyed the newly set table with a jaundiced eye and than turned her glare on the messy haired menace hovering nearby only to notice him looking at the presents.

"You've been warned, you wretched boy," Petunia warned cruelly for the umpteenth time, "put one grubby little finger on any one my Dudley's presents and I will have your uncle chop the offending digit off."

The nameless child nodded dutifully as he'd been taught, turned his eyes away from the enticing gifts, and silently looked to his aunt for his next assignment.

"You're finished for the day," Petunia reluctantly announced, looking for all the world like she regretted not having something else to have him do. "You are to take yourself outside. The guests will be here soon and I will _not_ have your presence in the house, fouling up the air as usual."

Again the boy nodded his understanding before turning and making his way to the kitchen. As he opened the heavy door, he heard his aunt's harsh voice calling after him.

"_Keep out of sight and don't even think of coming back inside for anything unless you've been called!_"

Dejectedly he slipped out the door and softly latched it behind him, tears burning at the back of his eyes as his aunt's cruel words echoed in his mind. Heading to the tool shed, he spared a few glances over his shoulder to make sure no one was watching before slipping in behind the hydrangeas to his secret hiding place. Sniffling, he sat down on a small patch of bare dirt, pulled his knees up to his chest and leaned back against the outer fence. The moment his weight settled against the two boards, they gave way and spilled him out of his relatives' yard and into the neighbor's.

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> _Please note that the divergence from Dudley's canon age was intentional; in this story Dudley is one year older than Harry. It is but one of the minor changes that made when I decided to shred the canon HP-verse and replace it with sheer madness. Next update will be for Wizard's World after which I'll be posting another two or three chapters here. _

_Explanations as to what happened to Kreacher will be answered in either book two or book three of the series. Right about the same time that the reason Harry was caught off guard when the world (and the known universe) began disintegrating around him. I know a couple of reviewers had asked about that. _

_The next update will be Chapter 14 for Wizard's World tomorrow with posting resuming on this story on Friday. ~ Jenn_


	3. The First Cracks Appear

**Disclaimer: **_All HP characters are the property of JKR, the WB, and respective publishing companies - this is nothing more than a simple FanFiction that I have written. I have made no money from this or any of the other stories I have posted on this or other sites._

**AN:** _Story beta'd by my R/L daughter Sillyhobbit_.

**Note:** _The views and actions expressed by the Dursleys in chapter are in no way, shape or form endorsed or promoted by me, the author, of this story. The abuse, both borderline and blatant, mentioned is simply used to portray one of the many possible relationships that Harry might have had with his relatives while growing up._

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><p><em><strong><span>Chapter 3: The First Cracks Appear<span>**_

Wide eyed and fearful, the boy froze instinctively as he lay half in and half out of the Dursley's back yard. He knows that what he is doing is strictly forbidden, he'd been told numerous times that to step foot out of the house or back yard was against the rules. He'd only ever been allowed out into the front yard a handful of times, to weed the garden late at night once or twice a year (the most recent time just two days earlier) and even then either his aunt or his uncle had stood over him watching him like a hawk the entire time. He'd definitely never been allowed to actually leave the property.

To show his face outside the fence line, and in broad daylight to boot, would be asking for a punishment ten times worse than his most recent one just a few months earlier. Biting his lip nervously, the boy carefully peered into the yard he had half fallen into when the boards gave way; his immediate view of the foreign yard mostly blocked by a crowded line of relatively tall shrubs. Thankfully, what little of it he could see through the branches appeared to be well and truly empty. Rolling over, he climbed up onto his hands and knees and began moving back into his aunt and uncle's yard when he happened to catch a glimpse of the natural tunnel formed by the bushes and the fence leading invitingly towards the street from the corner of his eye.

Swallowing thickly, the boy stopped and thought about the world that existed beyond the house he lived in and a longing more powerful than his desire to touch his cousin's pile of birthday gifts wells up from deep within him. He wants to be free. He needs to be free; if only for a single, stolen moment in time. Just one minute spent experiencing the freedom of going where _he_ wanted to go, of doing what _he_ wanted to do, and of being who _he_ wanted to be. Just one little minute of existing as somebody other than the nameless, invisible freak that lives with the Dursleys.

Before he even realizes what he is doing, the boy has crawled into the tunnel and has covered a quarter of the distance from the loose fence boards to the cement sidewalk just visible at the end of the hidden tunnel. He paused briefly and glanced uncertainly back in the direction from which he came as his fears overwhelmed him momentarily. He nearly turned back around to scamper quickly back into Number Four's yard but before his nerve completely fails he is flooded with a defiant courage that drowns out his worries of being caught breaking the rules. He _will_ have his minute of freedom regardless of the consequences that could and most likely would occur.

Moving briskly down the fence line, he listens to the distant sound of passing cars, the drone of people's voices being raised in greeting, and the giddy laughter of many excited children. Drawing near the end of his secret passageway, he slows to a stop and leans carefully against the fence in order to listen to the intoxicating sounds of the freedom he has been denied since the day he woke up on the porch of Number Four.

Through the cracks between fence boards, he was able to watch the ordered chaos occurring on the front porch of his aunt and uncle's house in the form of birthday guests. Dudley's perfectly normal friends were being dutifully delivered inside the house by their perfectly normal parents so they could attend the perfectly normal party Aunt Petunia had planned. They'd soon be eating a perfectly normal cake, drinking perfectly normal punch, playing perfectly normal party games, and watching as Dudley rips open the perfectly normal presents and it will be a wonderfully perfect afternoon as far as Dudley, Vernon, Petunia, and their guests are concerned.

The unwanted and nameless boy seethed in blind jealousy until the front door of Number Four bangs shut one final time; all of the party guests, and their parents, have entered the house and a peaceful silence descends on the vanishing heels of the disorder. Slowly, hesitantly, the boy peeked out from under the hedge to study the street in front of him and to ensure the yards around his hidey-hole are unoccupied. Seeing that the way forward was completely clear, he ghosted out from under the shadows and headed away from his unhappy life.

He wove in and out of the smallest bits and pieces of cover that appeared beside the long stretch of concrete and tarmac. Darting around or behind fences, trees, cars, and rubbish bins any time he feared being seen by some stranger's glaring eye. In this way, he traveled through quiet streets on the outskirts of Little Whinging with only an occasional car zooming passed on the streets he wandered beside. He'd been walking for nearly to two hours when he stumbled rather abruptly into the busiest part of town. Wide eyed he stared at his first glimpse of the hustle and bustle of the small city and he panicked; fleeing blindly into the relative safety of the nearest building in an effort to hide his presence in some small dark corner until he could process the sheer number of people he'd stumbled upon in his wanderings.

As luck would have it, he'd unknowingly entered the moderately empty town library; a building with seemingly thousands of ready made hiding places for terrified little boys. When he calmed down enough to take a good look at his surroundings, his eyes lit up in wonder. He _knew_ books, even if he didn't know what exactly books were. His mummy had read stories to him out of books every night before **it**, what ever it was, had happened and he'd woken up in his bleak new world contained exclusively within the walls of Number Four. Tentatively he ran his fingers along the covers of the nearest books, the tiniest of smiles snaking fleetingly across his face as he gloried in the resurfacing memories of his beloved mother.

Eventually, his attention was drawn to the sound of a woman's voice rising and falling as it read a story aloud from one of the books. _Mummy!_ The boy immediately assumed as he rushed towards the glorious sound of what he mistakenly believed was his mother reading a story aloud just for him. In his mind, she'd been here reading all this time, just waiting for him to come find her.

He stumbled to a jarring stop, emotionally flustered, when he finally reached the location the voice was calling from. His little heart is crushed the moment he sees the woman who is reading from the book and tears rapidly fill his eyes. _She's not his mother._ Bewildered, and somewhat broken, he watches the strange woman apathetically as her voice cascades over and around him while the hope that had been born inside his heart just moments before withered away to nothing.

He eventually sees the older children that had gathered at the woman's feet and he quickly scuttles backwards until he is once more hidden between two shelves of books. He doesn't let himself loose site of the storytelling woman though, as he critically studies her face from the relative safety between the two stacks. Any time her eyes left the pages of the book she was reading, he would duck back behind the shelves until he felt it was safe enough to steal another glance at her.

She was a fairly pretty, young woman; with long black hair secured in a braid that dangles down her back, nearly touching the floor beneath the chair she sat in and warm chocolate colored eyes that sparkled. The boy thinks they are perfectly lovely eyes, open and friendly. Her slender hands and fingers dance gracefully through the air as she balances the book she's reading on her lap, letting her hands draw amazing pictures in the air as she lives and _breathes_ the story she is telling. The children at her feet lean forward eagerly, hanging on her every word as her voice rises and falls with each word, giving life to the words on the pages. She's in the middle of describing a fantastic battle of epic proportions when a loud bell cuts across her voice, signaling the end of today's story hour.

The boy jumps in fright and realizes he's been away from the yard of his aunt and uncle's house for far too long. Giving one last, longing look towards the pretty story lady, and the dreams she has suddenly come to represent in the boy's heart, he scampers out of the library and begins the arduous return journey to Number Four, Privet Drive. Behind him, intrigued warm brown eyes track his progress until he is out of their immediate line of site.

The nameless child ran blindly most of the way back, moving as fast as his stubby little legs could carry him. He didn't stop until he thought he was close and then feared he was lost when he didn't immediately recognize any of the surrounding houses. He'd not been paying real close attention to where he was walking when he'd first left his relatives house, something he deeply regretted now as the sun was sank lower on the horizon. He knew his aunt, or uncle, would be looking in the yard for him any moment now in order him bring him inside to begin his pre-bedtime chores.

His little tummy is all tangled up in knots due to a severe case of the nerves by the time the sun's light has all but completely vanished from the sky, when he finally stumbled upon his secret escape tunnel. Relief flooded his soul and he dove inside the darkness and rushed back down the short passageway to the loose fence boards. He had just barely pulled his feet all the way through the small opening and pulled the boards back into place when his uncle's grating voice called out and ordered him to get inside and start picking up the messes. He darts towards the open door, moving to enter as requested, only for his uncle's meaty fist to roughly grab hold of him by the back of the neck before he can get inside.

"You ever make me call for you twice again, and I will paddle your arse so hard you won't sit down for a month of Sundays. You got that, Boy!" He nodded jerkily and whimpered in the back of his throat. This seemed to satisfy Uncle Vernon, because he was abruptly released and told to "Hurry the hell up!"

The room in question was a complete disaster; there were dirty paper plates and cups, napkins, disposable forks, wrapping paper, and other debris and food spread over ever inch of the floor and table. It looked like Dudley and his friends had taken extreme care to make the room a bigger mess than would be normal. Gathering up the garbage bag his aunt had left out for him, he quickly began stuffing the trash closest to him into the bag. Only the secrete knowledge that he'd stolen his minute of freedom earlier that day, carried him through the tedious task of picking up after his whale of a cousin.

Later that night, as he lay locked inside his cupboard, he let himself drown in the memory of the pretty lady with the magical voice. In his dreams, she sang beautiful songs, danced gracefully with him in her arms, and told the most wonderful stories to him as she tucked him into bed at night. In his dreams she had vibrant red hair and laughing green eyes that he didn't know looked just like his and in those same dreams, she called him Harry James and said he was her precious little man.

That night as he slept, silent tears slipped down his face and soaked his pillow without his knowledge.

_July 31, 1984 8:35 AM_

The boy was once more locked in his room wearing a freshly soiled diaper.

He had no idea why he was being punished, this time. If he had known that today was his birthday, he might have understood that his relatives were punishing him for daring to have something _so_ normal as a birth date. After all, freaks aren't born they're created with vile magics or found under rocks during the witching hour on pagan holidays or left on the unsuspecting doorsteps of normal people; or so the Dursleys believed.

Yet, because he didn't know he had a birthday, and that said birthday was this very day, the boy didn't even suspect why he was being punished. He just was and no amount of wishing would change that. He'd been woken up early that morning, told to get a diaper on quickly before being shoved back into his cupboard without breakfast. Shortly after the bolts on the outside of his door had been locked into place, he'd heard all three of his relatives tromp out the front door before slamming it shut with an ominous bang.

He was completely and utterly alone, something that had never happened, to his knowledge, in his short life before this day. This was not counting the dozen or so times he'd snuck out of the yard to return to the library since his cousin's birthday. Those times didn't really count because there'd been people all around, even if they weren't really with him they were still there.

Now though, the huge house was completely devoid of any life other than his own. The darkness of his cupboard closed in around him oppressively in a way it never had before. The cramped room shrinking with each ragged breath he drew as he imagined all kinds of horrible things happening to him now that there was no one in the house to save him. Terrified, he let out a keening wail and flung himself into the darker recesses of the cupboard and collided unexpectedly with the dusty bag he'd hidden there so long ago. Startled out of his growing fear, he grabbed hold of the bag and pulled it out of the small space he'd wedged it in back at the end of winter.

Climbing onto his bed, he placed the bag on his lap and studied it in the thin light that leaked into his room from the crack at the bottom of the door. It looked like an ordinary bag, much like the ones his relatives used from time to time. It didn't _feel_ like an ordinary bag though. It felt… _alive_… as if it was buzzing with electricity. His hands tingled with the trapped energy each time they came in contact with the fabric. It was a similar to the feeling he got when he snuck out of the backyard to visit the pretty lady with the nice voice.

As his thoughts turned to the book lady, he briefly wondered if he was being punished for stealing away those times. And if his relatives had left because they were going to punish the pretty lady with the nice voice for being the reason he would break the rules. He feared for the pretty lady in that moment, until he realized that his uncle would have made sure he knew he'd been caught breaking the rules if that was what he was being punished for today.

A tingle shooting through his fingers as they absently brushed the bag once more brought his attention back to his unexplored treasure. A brief flash of guilt that he was wrong to claim these objects as his went through his mind until he shrugged it away in favor of finally discovering what treasures the bag contained. He hesitated only once, staring hard at the door wondering how much time he had until his relatives returned. Than he put them out of his mind as he slid the zipper slowly and steadily open until the sides of the bag gaped widely, giving him an unfettered view of the disappointingly mundane looking packages inside.

His dissatisfaction only lasted until he realized that each item was individually wrapped in brown paper. Wrapped up neatly like presents, just like Dudley received on his birthday not too long ago, only the paper was no where near as fancy or as colorful. And there were no bows and ribbons on them. But they were still presents in the boy's mind. Excited, for he'd never owned a present before, the boy hugged the entire bag tightly against his chest. The bag truly held his greatest treasure ever! He felt no need to rip through the wrappings to discover what each gift held inside; it was more than enough just for him to know that for once he had his very own presents.

For the rest of that day, the small child lay on his bed with the open bag tucked against his stomach and a tiny smile on his face. Every now and then, he would reach inside with one hand to stroke the various packages while he clutched the rest of his treasures in the other. Eventually, and with great reluctance, the boy lovingly zipped the bag close and returned it to the far reaches of his cupboard. He wanted to take no chances that his aunt or uncle would discover his secret treasures for they would surely take them away before punishing him for just daring to have them.

To ease his growing emptiness that resulted from his loss of contact with the energy that crackled within the bag, he folded the two letters in half and tucked them securely inside his back pocket so he could carry them with him always. He knew he'd risk getting them taken away if he was caught with them but he vowed to be extra careful to never let them be seen. The only times that would prove difficult were on days he was given fresh clothes (which happened rarely enough) and when he was hosed down fully clothed on shower days (something that only happened during his long imprisonments in the cupboard when he was being punished).

The unwanted boy was sleeping fitfully later that night when his relatives finally returned. His aunt briefly opened his door and gazed down at him with a slight sneer of disgust on her face before locking it back up once more and heading up the stairs to bed.

_September 4, 1984 7:15 AM_

Aunt Petunia had woken the boy at the crack of dawn this morning and set him to toasting half a loaf of bread. As each pair of toast popped up gold brown from the toaster, he'd pluck them out and immediately butter them before placing the next pair into the slots and pushing down the lever that lowered them into the machine. While he waited for them to cook, he spread a thick layer of marmalade onto the previous pair and place them sticky side together on a plate sitting next to the toaster on the counter.

By the time he had finished that chore; his cousin had taken a seat at the table and was drinking a large glass of overly chocolate milk.

"Bring me my food!" Dudley commanded when he noticed the boy was finished with the toast.

The smaller child silently complied, toting the entire plate of toast over to the table where he placed it carefully down in front of his fat cousin.

"Next time, be faster," Dudley barked as he gave the smaller boy a shove that sent him tumbling to the floor.

The nameless boy said nothing; he just quietly picked himself up and returned to the toaster where he started in on toasting the second half of the loaf for his rotund uncle. While he worked, his aunt bustled about in front of the stove frying up bacon and eggs. Each time she filled a plate; she'd call him sharply and order him to take it to the table. After the three Dursley's finished their meal; Harry was instructed to clear off the table, rinse the food off of the plates, and soak them in hot soapy water so his aunt could wash them when she returned from walking Dudley down to the bus stop.

Today was the day Dudley started kindergarten.

The boy scraped marmalade and egg yolk off a plate with his thumbnail and stuck it in his mouth, absently sucking the odd mixture from his finger while he thought about the idea of going to school. He'd listened to his aunt prattle away about her big boy finally going to school to learn about his letters and numbers constantly over the last few weeks.

She'd made school sound so wonderful. Tons of kids practicing their three R's, as she called them, while painting pictures with their fingers and playing the most wonderful games. Dudley had never seemed very interested, unless she was talking about the different meals that they offered according to the school menu. The unwanted boy hung on her every word though, his little heart beating faster as he dreamt of learning how to read and of making friends for the first time.

Running the plate he held under the hot water, he let himself imagine a teacher reading stories to the class while he huddled close by with several faceless boys hanging on her every word. In his mind, the teacher looked like the book lady that read the stories to the children at the building of books he'd discovered. He dunked that plate into the suds on the other side of the sink and scraped the food from the next plate, this time getting a mixture of bacon crumbs and buttery marmalade.

His mind then moved on to painting pictures about the stories the pretty lady would read to the class. Pictures filled with fantastic animals, amazing heroes, and fancy castles. His would even feature fire breathing dragons and flying motorcycles. He was just rinsing off the last plate and envisioning crowded monkey bars (which in his mind was a series of bars filled up with jabbering monkeys, not bars meant to be climbed by chattering children) when his aunt reappeared in the kitchen with a scowl on her face.

"Quit dawdling you wretched brat! You should have already been finished with those dishes and started sponging the crumbs from the floor."

The boy quickly put the plate in his hands into the soapy water, shut off the faucet before climbing down off the stool he'd used to reach the sink, grabbed the sponge in question, and rushed off to clean up the floor. While down on his hands and knees, he thought back to his daydreams of going to school and wondered what it would be like to have friends. He'd just gathered up the last of the crumbs from under Dudley's chair when he felt the defiant courage that had carried him out of the yard and down to the library that first time well up inside him once more. This time, instead of sneaking out of bounds, it had him opening his mouth and breaking that first golden rule; don't ask questions.

"Will I be going to school too, Aunt Petunia?"

The sound of the child's voice startled his aunt and the plate she'd been scrubbing crashed to the floor and shattered. The boy flinched in shock as he stared at the broken plate before turning his gaze up to his now furious aunt.

"Stupid freaks like you aren't wanted in normal schools, boy!" Petunia hissed venomously while her plain face twisted into an ugly scowl. "And just look what your carelessness has caused! You made me drop a perfectly good plate on the floor. Your foul mouth and disregard for simple rules broke my plate! You'd best pick up every single shard of glass right this minute before I tan your hide with a belt!"

The boy hurried over and recklessly scooped up the shattered pieces of glass, his fingers getting sliced open in more than one place in his hurry to comply. His aunt only got angrier when she saw him dripping blood into the floor. Angry enough that she gave him a none-too-gentle shove with her foot while yelling at him to move his clumsy ass out of the way. The shove upset is precarious balance and he crashed forward onto the floor, the handful of broken glass in his hands scattering as he hit the floor hard.

Tiny slivers, and some not so tiny slivers, of glass pierced his face, arms, torso, and legs causing him to cry out in pain. His aunt sputtered incoherently for several long seconds before she grabbed the back of his shirt and dragged him out of the kitchen and into the hallway where she promptly tossed him into his cupboard.

"You heartless freak!" she screeched through the door. "You just wait until your uncle hears what you've done! He'll teach you to be disrespectful to your betters!"

The boy sobbed and blubbered as he listened to his aunt storming back into the kitchen; presumably to clean up his messes. The hundreds of cuts up and down the front of his body burned painfully, the shards of glass have been pushed in even deeper as a result of the way his aunt had dragged him through the house. All he'd wanted to know was if he'd be sent to school too but instead he'd been sent to his room in disgrace. The shame of his slip up burned hotly but not as hotly as the agony of all the little bits of glass that were buried in his skin.

By the time his uncle had arrived home from a long day of work, the boy had soiled himself and his bed because he'd not been allowed to put on a diaper. He'd also bled all over his clothes, his bed, and the floor in the cupboard, though his cuts had eventually scabbed over. He'd also gotten blood on the letters he kept in his back pocket when he'd pulled them out and tucked them behind his bag of presents immediately after he had peed his pants.

That night, after being set under the cold shower and given new rags and a diaper, he'd been spanked by his uncle. This time, his uncle had used one of his heavy duty work belts on his bare behind instead of just his bare hand. The reason, so his uncle had stated, was because he obviously wasn't learning the rules well enough and so he needed to be taught his lessons again.

Being forced to lie on his tummy over his uncle's knees had almost hurt worse than the actual spanking though, as the pressure seemed to force the glass even further into his skin. When his uncle finished with him, he was sent into the kitchen where he was set to work scrubbing the floor with a rag and a bucket of ammonia water; to disinfect the floor.

Every time he dipped the rag into the pale it caused his hands to burn fiercely as the effort of scrubbing the floor had opened the cuts from where the glass had entered. Every few tiles he had to wipe his hands on his shirt in order to keep the blood from dripping onto the floor. When the kitchen was done, he was sent to clean the hallway the same way which was only slightly easier as it was a smaller area.

The last thing he was made to do that night was clean out his cupboard. He'd been ordered to carry his mattress, pillow, and ratty old blanket out to the bins, before he'd had to wash the floor three times in order to get rid of the smell of stale urine. He was then given two dusty pieces of cardboard left over from the box that Dudley's new bike (one of his cousin's birthday gifts from the beginning of the summer) had come in. These were to be his new mattress. An old worn towel, folded in half and in half again, became his new pillow. A second old towel and musty pillow case were also given to him to use as a blanket and sheet respectively.

_September 18, 1984 5:00 PM_

He'd ended up spending two weeks locked in his cupboard, just long enough for the few cuts on his face and hands to heal as best they could with tiny fragments of glass still buried under the skin. He'd only been able to pluck the larger pieces out by hand during the time he spent huddled on his now highly uncomfortable bed. His chest and tummy were still pretty bad, but there was really nothing he could do about it without the help of an adult; and the Dursleys would never sink so low as to lend him a hand.

Each night of his confinement was a repeat of that first night. The moment his uncle walked into the house, he was brought out of his cupboard, thoroughly spanked and lectured, and made to disinfect the floors in the kitchen, hallway, and his cupboard.

During the days he'd lay on his side crying silently and wishing he could sneak out so he could listen to the pretty lady telling stories. Since the day he'd discovered his secret bag of presents, he'd been sneaking out of the yard at least once a week in order to hear the woman's stories. He never joined the kids around her feet. He didn't dare. No, he simply hovered between the stacks of books and stole glimpses of her face while he listened hungrily to her beautiful voice. Sometimes, during the nights after his spankings and chores, he'd dream of running away with the pretty lady so she could read her stories to him all day long, every day.

Tonight, directly after his nightly spanking, his uncle informed him that he was expected to resume his regular chores the next day. The boy thanked his uncle and went to sleep that night with a glimmer of hope in his heart, knowing that he'd soon get a chance to steal away once more to hear stories about brave knights and adventurous children who traveled the world on hot air balloons.

Early the next morning his aunt woke him up and set him to making breakfast bright and early while she got Dudley ready for school. While she walked Dudley to the bus, he scrubbed all the toilets upstairs and down. As she gossiped on the phone and browsed through her gardening magazines, he dusted the tables and polished the upstairs floors. Near lunchtime, she gave him the opportunity he was looking for when she sent him out back to weed the flowers.

"I don't want to see a single weed near my roses when I get home from the store. You're to stay in the back yard out of sight until I let you in when I get back!"

The boy would have leapt for joy, if he could have done so without being slapped upside the head for daring to be happy. As it was, he hurriedly put on his worn out shoes and scampered out into the yard and set to work removing the offending bits of green. There were not many weeds in the garden, even though he'd not weeded since before his recent restriction, so he was able to finish in less than a half hour.

After checking to make sure his aunt had already left, he slipped out between the loose boards and hurried through the streets to the library, eagerly looking forward to spending a few precious moments being free once more.

_December 12, 1984 4:43 PM_

This was the day that the nameless boy's luck (what little of it he had) finally ran out.

He'd woken up, made breakfast for his uncle and cousin, done his morning chores, and had been sent out into the garden to clear the snow off of the flower beds and spread a fresh layer of mulch and bark over and around the dormant flowers. When he finished, he picked up his messes and slipped out through the loose boards and proceeded to make his way down to the library. (He'd learned the name of the building when he overheard two elderly ladies discussing it out in front of the building the last time he'd gone.) The boy had grown a touch careless about leaving his secret tunnel and as a result his aunt had caught sight of him emerging by sheer chance.

By the time she'd run out the front door in hopes of dragging him back inside before he was seen, he'd already disappeared; well on his way down the now familiar route. While he was practically skipping down the streets on his way to the library; his aunt was on the phone with his uncle relating the news of his escape. As he was slipping through the library doors and settling down in his usual spot to listen to the pretty lady's voice telling a story about talking mice; his uncle, after taking the afternoon off, had just made it back to Little Whinging to search the streets for him. When the bell rang at the end of the story hour his uncle was just turning onto the street where the library sat.

The moment the boy stepped foot out of the front door of the library, his uncle was just driving past the library. He'd barely moved away from the door when his uncle caught sight of him and took note of where'd he'd been all afternoon. The unwanted boy had just turned the corner, intent on hurrying home before his absence was noted, when he was picked up roughly from behind and tossed into the back seat of his uncle's car.

Wide eyed and more terrified than he'd ever been before, the boy stared at the back of his uncle's head as the man sped off towards Number Four. When they arrived in the driveway, Uncle Vernon harshly ordered him to keep his head down until he made sure the coast was clear. After making sure there was no one watching, the whale of a man propelled the small child out of the car, up the walkway, and into the house without speaking a word. Waiting just inside the door, was thin lipped Petunia holding a crumpled paper in her hand with a red faced Dudley hovering just behind her.

"He's done this before, Vernon," Petunia hissed hatefully, her beady eyes glaring down at the small boy. "He's been sneaking out and… and… doing that… freak thing. Look, just look what he's done to our precious Dudders!" As the last word was spat from her mouth, she thrust the paper in her hands at Vernon, all the while still glaring furiously and the hated boy.

"What is this, Pet?"

"It's Dudley's first progress report from the school! He's failing, it says, but it just can't be true! It has to be the fault of that… that wretched boy. It's his unnaturalness that is blinding the teacher's eye to Dudley's intelligence. I just know that's what he's been doing when he sneaks out!"

The messy haired boy just shook his head in denial, his eyes wide and terrified as his aunt's claim sank in. Dudley, no longer afraid of being in trouble himself over his bad grades, took the opportunity to back his mother up by declaring, "It's true, I've seen him standing outside the classroom doing those freak things he does."

"I found him at the Library in town. It must be one of _those_ places if he's going there too. He must have found some of _those_ people there, that's how he's _done_ it."

"What are we going to do, Vernon?"

"We'll just have to beat it out of him and lock him up so he can't get out."

"Best fix the fence too; I found the place he's been getting out."

"I'll do that first thing this weekend."

The conversation over, Vernon turned the small boy over his knee and paddled him several times. He then pulled off his belt and whipped him several more times. After a few minutes, his uncle became too winded to continue, and passed the belt to his aunt who added a few forceful swats of her own. When she finished, Dudley snuck in a few sharp punches to the other boy's back and kidneys (which Petunia and Vernon pretended they didn't see) before he was shoved roughly into the cupboard; the back of his head smacking the door frame in the process.

Later, sometime after the Dursleys had eaten supper, the boy was given a dozen diapers and a liter of water and told that he'd have to make sure both lasted him for the next two weeks. With that, the door to his cupboard was bolted into place.

The small, hurting, child would end up spending the next two weeks locked in his room without a single bite of food. Without the little bit of water he had been given, he would have ended up much sicker than he did at the end of those two weeks. If only he'd known that one of his precious presents inside his treasure bag contained a large selection of magically preserved foods, he'd not have had to suffer through those two weeks as badly as he had.

At the start of the third week, his aunt opened the door for the first time since the day he'd been caught leaving the house and heaved the weakened boy out of the cupboard, dragging him upstairs where she rinsed him down with a cold shower while he was half delirious. She than wrapped him in an old threadbare blanket and returned him to the cupboard after clearing out his pile of used diapers.

Next she opened a can of chicken broth and poured it into his empty water bottle and forced him to swallow a few drinks of it down before capping it tightly. In the end, she'd spend an additional two weeks reluctantly nursing him back to health after she and her husband realized how close they'd come to killing the boy before giving up in disgust. And even then, they only cared because his death would be their death; or so one Albus Dumbledore had told them in a letter that had been left with the child when they found him on their porch one cold November morning over three years earlier.

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> _I'd like to thank everyone who has persevered through these past two chapters, I realize I made the Dursleys particularly evil and they will soon get what is coming to them. For those of you who are upset with how evil the Dursleys have been please keep in mind that I warned you in the first chapter that this story was not going to be all sunshine and daisies though it will get better. This was actually the worst I've ever made the Dursleys in any of my stories and is probably the last time I will write them in such a way. _I will say that everything that has happened to Harry is important because that is what shaped Harry's personality and behavior in this story. He is not going to miraculously recover overnight and his experiences will affect him for the rest of his life in some ways but that doesn't mean that they will always hamper him; please keep that in mind when reading future chapters._ _

__There were also hints of Harry's inner character here... the glimpses of determination that marked much of canon Harry's Hogwarts years; something I don't think the Dursleys could ever completely beat out of him. The next chapter will introduce two major players (both original characters - one of which you've already almost met) in the story and see plans made to rescue Harry._ ~ Jenn_

_**Author's Rant:**_

_To ladysavay: convenient that you've not allowed authors to reply to your reviews might as well have signed in anonymously. And I know plenty of people who have read both books you've mentioned dozens of times, myself included. This story, like all the others I have posted, is finished. Demanding that I rewrite it to fit your world views (or anyone else's) isn't going to make me change anything in this story. I'm not forcing you or anyone else to read my stories, which are nothing more than FanFiction anyway; meaning no one is paying me to write my stories… You are entitled to your opinion just as much as I am entitled to ignore your opinion. Don't like my story? Go write your own. Nuff said._

_I dislike replying like that but not like that person was brave enough to read a private reply. Wonder if whoever it is will bother reading the note. *shrugs* doesn't matter to me either way... to everyone else I apologize for making you suffer through that since it isn't all that important to the story. Chapter four will be posted tomorrow as scheduled.  
><em>


	4. Guardian Angels

**Disclaimer: **_All HP characters are the property of JKR, the WB, and respective publishing companies - this is nothing more than a simple FanFiction that I have written. I have made no money from this or any of the other stories I have posted on this or other sites._

**AN:** _Story beta'd by my R/L daughter Sillyhobbit_.

* * *

><p><em><strong><span>Chapter 4: Guardian Angels<span>**_

_March 31, 1985 Late Morning_

Leticia Evelyn Hall, or Lettie as all her friends called her, loved being a librarian. She'd loved books as far back as she could remember and, at the tender age of twenty-five, was thrilled to be working at the Little Whinging Public Library. She'd been hired by the Head Librarian, Francine Hughes, in the summer of eighty-three after receiving a Liberal Arts Degree from Royal Holloway, University of London, located in Egham, Surrey. She'd needed the job in order to put aside the money she'd need to get her teaching credentials, so that she could earn her Qualified Teacher Status, which would allow her to pursue to her life's ambition of becoming a primary school teacher.

Lettie wanted to be a teacher because she simply adored children, the younger children especially. The best part of her current job, in her opinion, was the two hours a day she spent reading aloud at the library's public story time in the children's section (one hour in the morning and one hour in the afternoon). The children who attended her readings were all usually bright and eager for the current story; rambunctiously gathering around her feet as they waited with baited breath for her to begin. The children just couldn't seem to resist the captivating sound of her voice as it rose and fell dramatically as she recited each story passionately. After nearly a year of employment with the library, she'd come to know the faces and names of those children that attended her readings on a regular basis, something that the children's parents appreciated; according to the praises they passed along to her boss.

That was why she was somewhat startled on one fateful summer Saturday, during the afternoon reading session, to look up from the book she was reading to see an unfamiliar child darting out of sight between the shelves. She would have dismissed the child easily after that, if not for the fact that he continued to hover just out of sight for the rest of that day's story time. Her curiosity was further sparked when the child immediately left the library the moment the bell rang to signal the end of story time, unaccompanied by any adult that she could see.

When the adorably shy, if somewhat scruffy looking boy didn't appear again over the next couple of days, she assumed he was the child of a family that had been passing through the area and put all thoughts of him out of her mind. Until, that is, he reappeared just as suddenly nearly a week later. Like the first time he'd appeared, the small boy had shown up about halfway through the afternoon's reading hour and hovered just out of sight until her time was up. He'd then darted away and vanished as quickly as he had the first time, once again traveling completely alone as far as she could tell. During the rest of June and through all of July, he'd returned but a handful of times, randomly showing up every so often. Then, starting in August, he'd begun showing up somewhat more regularly, coming just about every week on a different day, never again on a weekend though, and never on the same day two weeks in a row.

Lettie always saw him alone, never with an adult or even in the presence of another child. And he was always dressed in oversized clothes that had seen better days (often appearing in the same rags several visits in a row). She couldn't be sure, because she'd never been close enough to him tell for sure, but she didn't think he could be more than a month or two over the age of two – if that – due to his height in comparison to the shelves he hovered beside, he was just that tiny. His behavior screamed differently though, for how many two year olds would hover so far away? Not after all this time, no matter how shy the child, given the natural curiosity generally displayed by young children at that age.

None of her fellow librarians had ever seen the boy, and she had repeatedly asked them after each of his appearances, leading her to wonder if he snuck into the library just to hear her reading stories out loud. The more she saw of him, the more he intrigued her. Early on, when he first started appearing on a near weekly basis, she had hoped he'd actually start joining in with the group of other children sitting around her. But he disappointed her on that score as he continued to remain on the outer fringes, frequently disappearing if she (or any of the children) even glanced in his direction.

The pattern of his visits changed a second time in October when he'd begun appearing two and three times in a week; though still never on a weekend. His presence continued to both intrigue and frustrate her. She loved the feeling that he, like so many of the other children, was drawn to her. She loathed that fact that he never stuck around long enough for her to approach him to speak with him and learn more about him.

By middle of December she'd made up her mind; she was going to waylay him on his way out the door the first chance she got and to get some answers; such as where or who his parents were and why he was afraid to join the circle with the other children. She would never get the chance though, for after he left after the reading on December twelfth he didn't come back.

All through the days leading up to the holidays, she anxiously watched for him to sneak into the reading once more. By the middle of January, when he still hadn't come back, she worried over various reasons for his sudden disappearance. Each evening on the way home, she swore a promise to herself that if he ever did reappear she'd not let him get away without at least finding out who he was. Come the middle of March, she'd pretty much given up hope of ever seeing him again.

So it was that she was caught completely off guard when he resurfaced one morning at the end of the month, well over four months since originally vanishing, shortly after her morning reading looking considerably worse for wear. The moment she saw him, her worry and concern doubled for he was looking dangerously thin and pale as a ghost. He was also behaving twice as flighty as he had before he'd disappeared at the end of the previous year, flinching wildly at each little sound. She wanted to believe that the poor boy had only been ill all this time; but it was hard to attribute his skeletal appearance, obvious lack of clean, warm clothing, and complete stumbling gate to something so harmless as a common cold or flu; for any of the more serious illnesses or diseases would surely have been treated at a hospital and they'd not release him looking like death warmed over.

As she watched, he drunkenly stumbled to a stop on the edge of the open space that made up her reading area and stared blankly at her reading chair; as if he couldn't comprehend the meaning of the empty chair. Then again, the only times he'd ever seen the chair, was when she occupied it on the days he'd shown up during the afternoon reading hour. So, maybe his current state of confusion wasn't all that strange if one took into consideration the fact that the chair was the only place he thought she could be found.

Lettie started towards him, moving with exaggerated care in an effort not to startle or frighten the obviously shaken child. She'd only moved a few steps in his direction when something happened that confused and scared the hell out of the young woman; the boy simple withered inward on himself and collapsed into a heap at the base of the shelves. Before she could reach his side to help him, Francine (the Head Librarian and her immediate boss) tripped over the boy as she pulled along the cart full of returns that needed reshelving behind her.

Francine than did a double take as she finally registered there was a child huddled on the floor in front of her. Lettie continued to head in their direction, picking up her pace so that she was almost running towards them, when Francine questioned the boy while offering him a hand up. When he shook himself out of his daze and saw Francine hovering directly above him, he let out a strangled yelp and scuttled out of her reach. A heartbeat later he was up on his feet, running drunkenly out the door, and gone before either woman could react.

"We'll I declare!" Francine exclaimed in shock as she stared in the general direction the boy had taken.

"Well shite," Lettie growled as finally reached the place where the boy had been but a minute before.

"Was he that boy you're always going on about?"

"Yes, I was on my way over here to see if he was alright when you showed up and he left. He looked something like death warmed over from where I was standing when he first came in."

"His eyes were glassy with fever when he looked up, such startling green eyes he had too. I asked him if he was feeling aright, but he just gave me this kind of hopeless, broken look (his eyes full of unshed tears) before he bolted," Francine offered as she bent over and scooped up a thick, yellowed envelope from the ground at her feet. "Poor lad dropped this in his fright."

Lettie willingly accepted the thick and roughly creased envelope when Francine held it out for her to take. Curious, she let her fingers caress the odd parchment like paper as she read the name written in fancy calligraphy in some type of dark green ink across the front.

_To the Honorable:  
>Mister Trevor Lynn Wenlock-Matheson, Esq.<em>

"I doubt this actually belongs to the boy, maybe it's a letter addressed to his father? Though, if that's the case, it seems mighty odd for the kid to have been dragging it around with him. It appears as if he's been carrying it for quite sometime, if you take into account how deep the crease of the fold runs and the dirt smudges all over it."

"That's not dirt on there, Lettie girl," Francine corrected. "Those look more like smears of dried up old, blood. And I'd hazard to guess that they are about the right shape and size to be the fingerprints of your little mystery tyke."

"I think," Lettie drawled with exaggerated slowness as she tucked the unopened letter into her jacket pocket impulsively, "that it might be best if I tracked down our honorable esquire here and see if he can't shed a bit of light on just who our little friend might be."

"If you do decide to look him up, just mind you be extra careful, now, you hear? If that boy's been through a rough time of it, and I suspect he has if the scars on his face are any indication, there's no telling just how a man like that might take to a purty young thing like you turning up asking questions he'd rather not be answering. It just might be for the best for you to give that there letter to the proper authorities and let them handle it, dearie," Francine declared forebodingly.

The two women stood there in silence a few minutes longer staring after a small, terrified little boy who had long since disappeared before turning their attention back to their job. Lettie's mind stayed with the boy though, her mind replaying the scene from that morning over and over again.

_April 30, 1985 9:00 AM Sharp_

Lettie stood staring up at the imposing brick façade of an older building sitting practically right on top of the Thames River.

It had taken her most of the month to track down one Trevor Matheson, her anger and concern for the boy growing with each dead end lead. Until last night; when she'd finally struck gold while sorting through outdated issues of Time (the magazine) – she had been checking them over from cover to cover looking for any sign of water damage due to a window leak during the most recent rains (one of her least favorite tasks at the library) – in the form of a tiny advert on a tear-away insert offering legal services for British citizens living outside of the British Isles. She'd ripped the thick section of paper out of the magazine without thought.

That little scrap of cardstock was the reason she was currently standing on a crowded London sidewalk on this fine spring day contemplating on whether she should enter the building or not. Finally the memory of a frightened little, black haired boy in rags goaded her into action and she marched resolutely through the recently unlocked front door and straight into the outer offices of Samson, Matheson, and Carter International, Attorney's at Law.

The overly voluptuous secretary manning the front desk made an attempt to block her way as she marched resolutely passed the desk without giving it a glance but she easily evaded the tall blonde as she made a bee-line right for the windowed door with the label _Trevor Matheson, Esq_. painted across the glass and barged right in without bothering to knock.

Lettie took grim satisfaction in seeing the middle aged man sitting behind the desk look up in shock as the door crashed open hard enough that the glass window where his name was stenciled, burst into a thousand pieces as the furious woman appeared in the wake of minor destruction, her long black hair billowing around her as she marched resolutely into his office like an avenging angel.

* * *

><p>Trevor Lynn Wenlock was born into a middle class wizarding family in the middle of a violent storm on November twenty-sixth, nineteen-thirty-nine. He was the youngest of five children, and the only boy. He'd been a very rambunctious boy, much given to speeding through the house barefooted or throwing stubborn tantrums, but the older he grew the more concerned his parents became when his fits of extreme emotion failed to produce the expected bouts of accidental magic. At the tender age of seven his parents had dragged him, along with his older sisters, into St. Mungo's and had him tested for the presence of an active magical core. The results were devastating, for while Trevor did indeed have an active core, it was defective.<p>

Extensive testing eventually pin-pointed the culprit a year later when he was diagnosed with a rare magical malady called, the Thurkellian Curse; a hereditary disease that was known to strip a wizard's body of the ability to contain the magical energy produced by an active core, thereby rendering the witch or wizard a virtual squib. Their lack of a proper magical reservoir making it impossible for one afflicted to gather enough power to generate even the most basic of wanded spells.

His parents spent nearly the entire family fortune attempting to correct or reverse the problem until just before his eleventh birthday when they finally ran out of money. Long before the money ran out, his family had begun to fall apart; his four older sisters resented going without the previous luxuries that had been theirs all their life, his father had turned to the bottle with the knowledge that his line would forever carry the defect and that any additional sons he sired would most likely saddled with the same affliction, and his mother sequestered herself in her rooms after being blamed by his paternal grandparents for Trevor's condition.

His friends, other young witches and wizards he'd played with since he was in diapers, had been disgusted (or at least their parents had been disgusted) when the nature of his condition leaked to the general public after other pureblood families learned that the Wenlock family was now living in near poverty. Those same supposed friends readily abandoned him at a time when he really could have used their support.

Two months later; he'd been cast out of the family and deposited unceremoniously on the streets of Magical London to fend for himself in order for his parents to salvage what remained of the family's good name and squandered (according the other purebloods) fortune. He'd struggled for survival in the beginning, but eventually turned to the Muggle side of the city and found somewhat of a place in the wild world. He fought hard to obtain a Muggle education, which would have had his pureblood ancestors and their peers rolling in their graves, while working odd jobs here and there to cover his bills. He eventually earned enough to send himself to university and legally changed his last name to Matheson to completely sever all ties to his family.

At the age of twenty-seven he graduated, with honors, from Oxford with bachelor's degrees in Political Science and Criminal Justice and an associate's degree in business management. By the time he turned thirty-one, he'd earned his Juris Doctorate and applied for a junior partnership at a small time law-firm that handled international cases involving British citizens traveling outside the borders of the British Isles and the Common Wealth. He immediately began taking night courses at the university to learn French, German, Spanish, Italian, and Russian in order to better serve the company and his future clients.

He'd met his wife, a young vivacious witch, in the summer of seventy-two before his thirty-third birthday when he'd run into her trolley as she'd exited the hidden entrance between platforms nine and ten. She had just finished her seventh year at Hogwarts and had been excited about going out and making her mark on the world. It was love at first sight and they married that same Christmas shortly after he learned of the growing war being waged in the wizarding world (their difference in age of no concern to either of them). That was also the winter he bought out two of his four Muggle partners at the law firm, solidifying his position as a leading lawyer of international incidents and immigration matters.

In June of seventy-three his wife of six months announced that she was expecting their first child. Trevor was overjoyed and severely regretted the fact that he would be leaving the next day to attend to a legal matter overseas for one of his high profile clients instead of staying home and celebrating the news with his beloved wife. One month later, a week before he was due to return home, his wife and unborn child were murdered by Death Eaters in retribution for marrying a worthless squib.

Enraged and devastated by the senseless loss, Trevor turned to the wizarding world and demanded the guilty parties be brought justice. His pleas went unanswered, for to them he was nothing but a pathetic squib, someone who was easily shunned by the same society that had cast him out over twenty years earlier. Trevor threw himself into researching the wizarding laws with a vengeance as a result, hoping he'd find some obscure loophole to exploit so he could get revenge on those who'd stolen the family he'd loved with his entire being. By the time Lord Voldemort fell on that fateful Halloween night to young Harry Potter in nineteen-eighty-one, Trevor was one of the few experts on wizarding politics, history, and ancient laws. (Not that his expertise had brought the justice he'd long sought over his wife's murder).

By nineteen-eighty-three his firm had picked up a wizarding partner, one up and coming muggleborn protégé by the name of Klouse Carter, and together in less than a year they became an unstoppable legal team within the justice system with a solid reputation for winning every single case they litigated in front of the Wizengamot without fail. They were also well known for never taking on the cases of known Death Eaters (acquitted of their crimes or not) unless it was in the role of prosecutor, which only happened on rare occasions as the purebloods didn't want other purebloods being prosecuted by lowly squibs and muggleborns.

He'd grown cynical though, in the years since his wife's death, as no matter how deep he dug he'd never learned who had raised the wand that took her and his unborn child's life. He knew it had been on the general orders of the Dark Lord, as retribution for her sullying her family's line by daring to marry a squib with muggle ties, but beyond that he knew nothing.

On the fateful morning of April thirtieth, nineteen-eighty-five, he'd been in the process of preparing a case against a muggle baiting witch for his wizarding partner when his office was invaded by a fiery vision of righteous anger. He was, at first, both enthralled and intimidated by the unexpected arrival of a diminutive woman who barreled in without so much as a by-your-leave let alone an appointment. Irritated at being caught off guard, Trevor rose to his feet and opened his mouth to order the crazed woman out of his office when said woman slammed a sorry looking envelope down on his desk and leaned forward to glare up into his eyes.

"You're boy left this behind when he bolted out of the library over two months ago, and for the sake of your continued health he'd better be in a sight lot better state than I last saw him in!" she growled out fiercely. "_Honorable Esquire_, indeed! You ought to be put on the stand yourself, instead of your clients, for what you've done or allowed to be done to that poor child! A disgrace to mankind you are!"

Trevor crinkled his brow in confusion. _His boy?_ He had no boy. "What in the world are you talking about? I ought to call the authorities and have you cited for disorderly conduct!"

"You know damn well what I'm talking about, how could you not see the condition of your son when you most likely see him day in and day out? Or do you and your wife lock him away out of sight so you can pretend he doesn't exist to ease your guilty conscious?"

Old pain lanced through his heart and soul at her heated words and he pulled himself up sharply before snapping unthinkingly in reply, "My wife, along with my unborn child, were _murdered_ more than ten years ago, before I even knew if the child would be a son or a daughter. I don't know who you think you are to barge in here with your delusional lies, but I suggest _you_ leave. _Right. __**This**__. Minute_."

"Are you or are you not one Trevor Lynn Wenlock Matheson, Esquire?" she countered fiercely through gritted teeth.

He promptly forgot what he was about to say when the use of his middle name and former last name, two names he had not once used since the day he'd legally changed his name and took a good long look at the irate woman standing on the other side of his desk. It was a name that only a handful of people still alive would know and not one of them would look favorably upon him. Slowly he sat back down.

"I'll take care of this, Rebecca," he announced in a tightly controlled voice to the blonde secretary hovering just outside his door. "Please ask Klouse if he'll have a few minutes later to repair the window? And close the door for me."

Once the secretary had left, he turned his attention to the still fuming woman and in a tight voice demanded, "Where did you hear that name?"

Without saying a word, she picked the envelope back up off the desk and flung it at him, seemingly not in the least bit intimidated by him.

He caught the letter reflexively with one hand as the corner impacted his chest. Frowning he studied the bloody fingerprints that covered the backside of the thick vellum before turning it over to read the writing on the front. "You said 'he' dropped this? Who is this 'he' you keep referring to?" Trevor fired rapidly in her direction as he studied the envelope intently. Not waiting to hear her answers, he picked up the phone, hit one of the speed dial buttons, and held the headset to his ear as a faint voice answered from the other end.

"Klouse, I need to drop what you're doing and get in here right now. No, this isn't about the window. There's been a possible security breech and I need your assistance immediately. No. No. Yes, but I won't be finished for at least another hour or two depending on how long this takes to clear up. Yes. No. Door will be open."

He slammed the phone down when the conversation ended and turned his piercing hazel eyes back to the woman standing before his desk once more. She was just opening her mouth to speak when his partner entered the office and pulled out his wand. She stared dumbstruck when he proceeded to repair the window and lock the room down with magic.

"Who the hell are you people?" the woman gasped fearfully as she stumbled as far away from them as she could get in the small room.

"The question of the moment is who the hell are you and how the hell did you get this?" Trevor demanded as he waved the envelope to gain her attention. "Can you scan this for jinxes and hexes, Klouse?"

"Sure, Trev," Klouse responded while his wand began dancing through the air as an array of different colored lights enveloped the thick parcel. "Let's see; we've got bloody fingerprints of the magical type MO negative, a high concentration of privacy spells and identification charms. There's also a fairly nasty counter ward that will damage any hand that does not belong to the addressee that so much as tries to open it. It's also giving off a highly unusual date signature and covered in DNA residuals that are typically associated with the DNA sequences of the common house elf. Quite the little bomb you have there, Trev, ole boy."

"And the woman?"

Another several waves of the wooden stick and a wash of colored lights danced over Lettie as she stood there in terror, feeling a strange tingling dancing across her skin.

"She's as muggle as Rebecca and old Sammy."

"All I wanted was to find out what had happened to the boy, I don't know anything about any explosives or about whatever cult you two are a part of but if you'll just tell me where the boy is and if he is okay; I will gladly leave and forget I was ever here."

"Sit down, ma'am, I'm afraid you won't be going anywhere until we get to the bottom of this," Trevor ordered as he set the letter down on the desk and fixed his raptor's gaze on her once more. "We'll start nice and easy. Who are you?"

Swallowing thickly, a flash of Francine's original warning (that she had blithely ignored) flashed through her mind as she moved forward and nervously sank into one of the high backed chair that were situated on her side of the desk before answering, "Let… Lettie… err… rather Leticia… Leticia Hall."

"Pleasure," Trevor responded sardonically, "Trevor Matheson at your service. The show off with the wand is Klouse Carter my junior partner at this firm. Now that introductions have been made, let's get to the heart of the matter, shall we? Why don't you start at the beginning and tell us what led you to this point. Hmm?"

Leticia stared at him for a full minute before she reluctantly began her story, "It started back at the end of June, this past summer. He appeared quite suddenly one day during the afternoon Story Session, which is what we call the hour I spend every morning and afternoon reading aloud to the local children, at the Public Library I work at in Little Whinging, Surrey. I'd been working there for about a year at that point and was very familiar with all the children that regularly attended the daily readings. I'd never seen him before, not something news worthy, I know, but this is a small town library that doesn't get many tourists passing through. So I was curious as to who he could be."

"When I didn't see him over the next few days after that first time, I put him out of my mind until the next time he appeared. After that I saw him once every other week or two, he'd pop up during the last half hour of the afternoon's Story Session, watch me around and through the stacks, and I assume listen to me read until the session finished for the day. At that point he'd scurry off through the front door alone. From August on the number of times he'd visit slowly increased and by December, he was showing up two and three times a week without fail, always on week days mind, never on a weekend after that first time and then as suddenly as he'd shown up in the summer he disappeared completely for over four months."

"When he finally did return, he'd looked… if you'd seen him…" Lettie faltered at this point, her emotions starting to get the better of her as she recalled how sickly the boy had looked that last time. "It was just at the end of last month, and he'd appeared out of the blue hours earlier than he usually did. He was nothing more than a shadow of the boy who'd shown up that first time one summer day. He'd lost weight. A lot of weight in a short time (and he didn't have much to spare in the first place) and was wearing the same over-sized rags that he always wore when he appeared, they just hung loosely on his frame…"

"Here," Trevor interjected as he passed the obviously distraught librarian his handkerchief. "Klouse, think it possible you could capture the memory of the day in question?"

"Sure. Easy as pie."

"Ms. Hall, can you take a moment and pull yourself together, please? We'd like to get a copy of the memory of that last visit, so we can see for ourselves what you saw."

"Will it hurt?" Lettie tentatively inquired after she spent a few minutes calming down.

"Not at all," Klouse assured her as he placed his wand against her temple. "You won't feel anything but a slight tickle as I pull the memory out. Just relax and focus your thoughts on the last time you saw that little boy. That's it… only a moment more… and there we go… all finished. Hand a vial over would ya, Trev?"

"Thank you Ms. Hall, please go ahead and continue with your story we'll visit the copy of your memory later."

Lettie nodded jerkily as she stared at the silvery substance that had been pulled from her head and picked up about where she left off, "He looked so heartbroken when he found my reading chair empty. I'd been cleaning up the shelves in the children's section, putting the books back in order by author when he arrived. I was startled; both at his appearance and over the fact that he was there so early in the day. I started in his direction when he just sort of deflated and sank onto the floor. I could see his entire body shaking with suppressed sobs, the first sign of emotion I'd ever seen him display. Not that I've ever seen him up close, mind you. As I'd said before, he never joined the other kids during the readings; he'd just hover practically out of sight between stacks during the stories. If I or one of the children looked in his direction he'd shrink away but not quite leave unless the hour was up."

"Francine, my boss, saw him for the first time on that day. She'd practically tripped over him before she even saw him, and the moment she spoke to him and offered to help him up off the floor, he… panicked… and quickly fled the building. She said he looked absolutely terrified when he looked up at her. She's also the one who noticed he'd left behind the letter I brought with me. I'd guess he'd been holding it in his hands before he collapsed and dropped it when he fell or just before he fled. I haven't seen him again since. I thought… maybe that if I found the person the letter was addressed to, I could find that little boy. It's taken me all month to find you, and in all that time he's not returned once. I'm so afraid that something worse has happened to him."

"You have no idea who is or where he lives?"

"None, your letter was the only clue I've come across in the six months or so since he first started coming to the library. Francine suspects that those bloody fingerprints on the envelope belong to him but that's really just a wild guess on her part. I'm… I must apologize for barging and accusing you like I did. I was just so worried and not really thinking straight. I'd not intended on attacking you when I first walked in. It just burst out."

"You're apology is accepted. Given your description of the boy's condition, I can somewhat understand your concern. Do you have an idea or rough estimate of the child's age? It would also be of great help if you could give us a physical description of his features."

"He appears to be about age two but as he behaved much older and wore such over-sized rags it was hard to tell for sure. He has short and wild, messy black hair that stuck up in every direction and his skin looked extremely pale, like he'd never spent much time out in the sun. Francine said his eyes were a deep emerald green and that he had several scars on his face, the most prominent one she described later was the one shaped like a lightning bolt on his forehead."

Trevor's pen ripped deeply into the notepad he'd been using to take notes at the end of her description and Klouse jumped in shock, knocking into the bookshelf of heavy law books on the wall behind him, spilling several of them out onto the floor.

"What!" Trevor exclaimed wildly as he rose to his feet. "You're certain? Black hair, green eyes, and the scar? But no... the age is all wrong, he'd be over four now… damn it where is that Pensieve! Klouse, just forget the books! We need to see that memory now. If he's who I think he is… if he's as bad as she says… shit's going to hit the fan for this one. I just know it."

Lettie watched wordlessly as a deep stone basin was pulled out of a file cabinet and thumped down on the desk roughly. Before her eyes, Klouse poured the silver substance of her memory from the vial into the basin before both men proceeded to stick a hand into the liquid and literally froze in place. Eight minutes later the two men burst back into action quite unexpectedly given how still they'd been standing just seconds before.

"Damn it!" Trevor growled as he began shoving everything from the top of his desk, except the stone bowl, pulled additional vials out of a drawer, and lined them up on the desk. "Klouse, start copying that memory; at least a couple dozen copies of the damned thing will be needed, the more the better because there will be people in high places doing their damnedest to erase every last bit of evidence if given half a chance."

He then turned to the phone and punched open the intercom to ring the secretary's desk, "Bec, get me another two cases of memory vials in here five minutes ago. Then get Bones on the fire and put in a request to access all files on Harry Potter. No, no forms. Not a whisper of that name is to leave this office, do you understand? Good. On second thought, tell her to get down here immediately. Tell her it's a Code Phoenix, Red with a security breech if she balks. Be sure to request a reliable Auror or two to be assigned to the office for a high profile case, preferably ones with extensive working knowledge of the Muggle world and its laws. When you're finished with her, send an urgent owl to my contact at Gringotts and tell him to bring over a copy or three of James and Lily Potter's will, access records for the Potter's vaults for the five years, and any other records he thinks will be important as soon as he can. Get back to me when you're done."

Trevor cut the connection and turned his attention back to the occupants of the office, "Ms. Jasper, Leticia, I'm going to need copies of each and every single memory of the each and every visit made by the child. Each memory should include at least half an hour's worth of time before he arrived and an additional half an hour's time after his departure. Klouse, if you'll start pulling those memories once you're done copying the first one? The Aurors should be able to give you some help producing extra copies of the additional memories when they get here and extra vials are being brought from storage."

Turning back to the phone once more, he connected to the intercom a second time and waited for the man on the other side to answer, "Timothy, I've just stumbled on a huge case from the other side of the fence. I need you to take all my cases from the Muggle side. Hire an assistant or two to help you with the caseload if you need it, I'll be unavailable indefinitely from this point forward. Yeah, this is going to be that huge. Thanks, Tim."

As he hung up, Rebecca knocked on the door and walked in after Klouse flicked his wand at the door to unlock it, pushing a handcart with two large boxes strapped onto it. She parked it right by the door and hurried back out to carry out her other tasks. An older man appeared shortly after she left and began packing up seemingly random folders from the floor and file cabinets while the other two men ignored him; he left shortly afterwards as silently as he'd entered.

Lettie had just had yet another memory copied from her head when an older woman dressed in dark red robes and wearing an old fashioned monocle marched into the office carrying a thick stack of files with a young black man dressed in identical robes following practically on her heels.

"What the hell are you pulling a Phoenix Code out of your ass for, Matheson!" The woman demanded indignantly as she took in the chaotic office in one glance.

"This, Amelia, " Trevor grated out as he picked up the phone, dialed a number he'd looked up in his address book, and jerked a thumb in the general direction of the memory still floating in the Pensieve. "Have a peek, if you're feeling brave enough. Take Mr. Shacklebolt in with you, as it's best for him to know what we'll all be dealing with from this point forward."

Klouse pulled another two dozen memories from Lettie in the time the two people in robes had spent standing frozen with a finger in the memory. The colorful curses the woman spewed when she exited were far more descriptive than any Lettie had ever heard before.

"Kingsley, put a team together and start digging up any hints, discreetly mind you, you can about where Dumbledore placed the child. Have some of the younger cadets pull all back issues of the Prophet from the last five years that make even the barest mention of the name Potter and send Dawlish out to cover your scheduled patrols of Diagon for at least the next three weeks."

Meanwhile, Trevor held another conversation over the phone with the Surrey Police Department, "Sergeant Timmons, Trevor Matheson here, I've got a red hot one for you here, can you send me an extraction team with lots of experience and a medical detail with social strings? If you can get them here in the next hour I can have them briefed on the specifics. Yes. Thanks."

Trevor hung up the phone and stepped outside of the office, "Bec, get our contracted photographer on the line and hunt down a couple boxes of film, the muggle-side search and seizure forms, and a detailed map of Little Whinging; the bigger the better. After that, call in Johnson to help you handle the office. Backbiter! Thank you for getting here so quickly. Did you bring the files requested? Perfect, come on in and join us please."

Klouse bottled the last memory, number eighty-seven of eighty-seven visits Lettie recalled the boy making to the library, as Trevor reentered the office followed by the scariest humanoid creature Lettie had ever seen in the flesh.

"Backbiter, this is our only witness, Leticia Hall. Ms. Hall, this is Backbiter, a venerable goblin from the Gringotts' Outcast Clan."

Lettie fainted, having received one too many shocks to the system since walking into the building and in combination to the exhausting process of extracting a high number of memories over a short period of time. Trevor just shrugged and motioned the now grinning goblin to join him in viewing the first memory. For the rest of the morning a near constant stream of people passed through the office as Leticia slept on blissfully unaware of the storm of chaos she'd started with a single tantrum thrown in the office of a passionate lawyer with ties to the wizarding world.

By lunchtime a solid team of six police officers, six aurors, a wizard healer, two muggle nurses, a social worker, one goblin, two lawyers, and one photographer had been assembled in the tiny office. Additionally two senior auror cadets had been detailed to stand guard over the multitude of copied memories and only witness.

Around two o'clock the entire team was in the process of being briefed one final time on the planned extraction and warned about the many unknowns involved due to the limited information when his phone rang shrilly.

"Matheson here. Yes, of course I know who you are. How did you get this number? I see. Yes. Yes. No, we don't. I see. To be Frank with you, I'm not sure I can trust you given how close you are to… I see… I understand. Is he aware? Can you keep it that way? Alright. You're positive? Names? Address? Got it. Thank you. Yes, I'll leave your name out of it. Yes. Goodbye."

Trevor hung up the phone and grimly met the steely eyes of the extraction team. "We've got a family name and an address. Only request is that I not mention the name of our informant until the individual is ready. We'll meet back up in front of the Little Whinging Library in about an hour, let's go."

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> _And let the chaos begin. Things will move fairly quickly from here on out. The next chapter will see the actual rescue carried out and the identity of the mysterious informant revealed. _

_**Note:** summary updated 10-15-11 with an additional warning because some people can't be bothered to read the warning at the beginning of the first chapter about this story NOT being filled with sunshine, daisies, and miracles. Next update will be on Wizard's World tomorrow with chapter five for this story being posted on Monday. - Jenn  
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	5. The Beginning of the End

**Disclaimer: **_All HP characters are the property of JKR, the WB, and respective publishing companies - this is nothing more than a simple FanFiction that I have written. I have made no money from this or any of the other stories I have posted on this or other sites._

**AN:** _Story beta'd by my R/L daughter Sillyhobbit_.

**Warning: **_There's a bit of foul language in this chapter just so you know. I normally try to avoid making my characters curse because there better ways of expressing oneself usually. However, there are times when a swear word only emphasizes just how emotional or dire a situation is._

**Note:** _The views and actions expressed by the Dursleys in chapter are in no way, shape or form endorsed or promoted by me, the author, of this story. The abuse, both borderline and blatant, mentioned is simply used to portray one of the many possible relationships that Harry might have had with his relatives while growing up.  
><em>

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><p><em><strong><span>Chapter 5: The Beginning of the End<span>**_

_April 30, 1985 2:00 PM_

Miles away from the broiling storm in the offices of a London lawyer; a little unwanted and unloved boy lay listlessly upon a cardboard bed in the darkened interior of a dingy hallway cabinet. He'd not left the tiny storeroom since the day he'd unknowingly left behind one of his treasured letters when he fled the library. In fact, the little boy didn't even know he had taken the letter with him on that particular long ago day. At this point, he wouldn't have cared even if he had known he'd lost the letter.

He'd been delirious when he snuck out of the house on that early morning, his head pounding and throbbing in turns between bouts of severe dizziness and vertigo. Thankfully his relatives had been far too busy going about their daily rituals to spare a thought to the very sick boy they'd been keeping locked up in the cupboard under the stairs. His aunt had made a few half-hearted attempts to nurse him back to health just after Christmas, but declared him an ungrateful wretch when his health didn't bounce back quickly enough for her tastes. A week into the New Year she completely stopped trying, only spending enough time and energy on the boy to make sure his diaper was changed twice daily and that he had small amount of food and water in his room at all times.

The family fully expected him to die and they were secretly looking forward to that day more and more, though in the back of their minds they were also a little afraid of would happen to them once he was gone. His door was left unlocked from that point forward; he never moved, unless one of them dragged him out, so they figured there was no point in expending the effort of barring him from the rest of the house.

Early on the morning of March thirty-first, long before the sun (or his relatives) rose, the near forgotten boy simply ghosted out of the house and in a fever induced trance he stumbled his way along the route he'd traversed so often since that summer. He was weak though, and it had taken him much longer than usual to reach the library, not that he was at all aware of his surroundings or the passing of time at that point. He simply put one foot in front of the other as something inside him pushed forward when he felt like stopping or turning back. Buried in the back of his mind, was the same burning desire that had once spurred him to sneak out of the yard that first time.

The moment he entered the comforting warmth of the library he'd felt his head clear just the slightest bit while his heart lightened and filled with the faintest stirrings of hope. In his fevered state-of-mind everything would be all right if he could just hear the story lady reading to him one more time. It was the golden memory of her voice that drew him through the tall stacks of books to the place where he always watched and listened to the stories she read.

When he reached the end of his journey and found her chair empty, he became confused. His brain was having difficulty understanding what his eyes were telling him. When it finally sunk into his clouded mind that the woman he'd come to hear was not where she was supposed to be, something had broken loose inside him. For weeks on end the only thing that had kept him going was the voice of the woman with long black hair and kind brown eyes. The knowledge that she had always been there when he came to hear her and in his mind that meant that she would always be there whenever he visited the library, sitting in her chair, reading stories; waiting for him.

It was too much for him in his weakened state and he'd fallen down where he stood and began sobbing softly in defeat. He'd been pulled out of his emotional stupor by the sound of a strange lady speaking to him while reaching down to grab him at the same time. In his fevered condition, he'd seen his angry aunt hovering over him and he'd bolted instinctively, fleeing back towards his cupboard under the stairs.

The return trip to Privet Drive passed much quicker than it had taken him to reach the library. He'd slipped silently back inside his cupboard with his aunt and uncle completely unaware that he'd broken the rule about staying inside the house again and simply melted into his bed. He'd sobbed pitifully for an hour or two before sinking into unconsciousness.

He'd not moved an inch since.

His will to survive died when that part of him that had carried him this far had been shattered. He just stopped fighting, letting his body begin the process of complete and total shutdown. It was a long, drawn out process interrupted by the occasional burst of accidental magic that his body released sporadically. Each uncontrolled wave of magic would disrupt the collapse of his central nervous system by sending trace amounts of healing energy through his brain and the rest of his body. Unfortunately, his lack of will to live adversely hindered the magic's effectiveness.

He had no hope; no name, no mother, no father, no pretty lady feeding his dreams and giving him something to live for, and nothing left to hold him on this plane of existence. Only the barest of threads held his soul tethered to his body and that too was slowly dissolving.

About the time Trevor Matheson was answering the anonymous tip from a not quite anonymous source, Harry's body was entering the final stages of complete failure. At that point he had less than one hour remaining on this earth.

_April 30, 1985 2:45 PM_

By twenty after the hour, the team had reached the library where they took the statement of the Head Librarian, while her memory of the day in question was secretly copied without her knowledge by Kingsley Shacklebolt, the black auror that had arrived in Matheson's office that morning on the heels of an irate Amelia Bones.

Several minutes were then spent while Amelia discreetly analyzed the area where the child had spent most of his time in the library and where he'd collapsed (according to all the memories Leticia had provided before fainting) with several diagnostic charms. Even though at least four weeks had passed since he'd last been inside the library, there were extremely high concentrations of an immature magical signature all over the floor and nearby books.

Trevor joined her when he had finished questioning the other librarians and asked, "Find anything Amelia?"

"Yes, only far more than I expected," Amelia replied. "How there can be such a huge concentration of residuals, after all this time… it's not normal. Magic dissipates rapidly once it leaves the core, most especially the accidental bursts given off by immature witches and wizards, because it has no focus and the energy is usually spread over a several meter wide area. That is why time is a major factor when tracking the signature of a single magical being, or creature. The more time has passed, the less of a 'print' there is to work with."

"Couldn't the high emotional strain the boy was displaying affect the amount of magical output in a small location such as this one here? He appeared severely distraught in the memory. There's also the fact that this is the one spot in the entire building that he lingered for any length of time, which would have resulted in this area being repeatedly exposed to significant amounts of any magical outpourings from him. Meaning it could be more of a residual build up over time rather than the result of one overcharged outburst."

"Hard to say, if this was the signature of a magically stable and mature adult I could easily agree with either one or both of those explanations, because there'd have been a force of will behind the outburst aided by a wanded focus. A kid though? He'd have had to fracture his core to pour out enough energy to create an active patch this large, even with a building up of energies over several months."

"He'd have had to have lost the will to live and that would mean that in his condition…" Trevor immediately replied, his voice rasping emotionally at just what that would mean for the boy in question.

"He's already long dead," Amelia finished tonelessly.

Whistling shrilly, Trevor captured the attention of every person inside the library and received more than one offended glare from the various librarians on duty, "Wrap it up folks, we're moving out. _Now!_"

Eight minutes later the extraction team had surrounded Number Four, Privet Drive (the location having been provided by a semi-anonymous tip) and on Trevor's signal the law enforcement members broke down both doors and the entire group, minus two officers left guarding the exits from the outside to prevent those inside from getting ambushed by nosy neighbors or family of the suspected perps, moved inside.

"Everyone freeze where you are and place your hands in the air!" the senior muggle officer barked loudly as he stepped into the house. "Do not attempt to run and do not approach any of the officers in the house – they will approach you."

Petunia, the only one of the Dursleys actually home at the moment, screeched angrily at those coming in into her kitchen through the back door. She'd began yelling at them to get out, all the while waving around the bloody knife in her hand threateningly at the plain clothed officers until Amelia summoned her weapon and stunned her.

"Snap and bag boys!" Amelia ordered, meaning for the camera boy to take pictures while the officers bagged up any and all evidence. "Medical, find our boy."

"The front of the house is clear, boss," Kingsley announced as he entered the kitchen from the hallway. "The husband and son are not present inside the house. Intelligence would suggest that the Dursley boy is at the local school and Mr. Dursley is at work."

"Get a team of one on one sent to the school to pick up the boy, best send social with them as well. We'll wait for the elder Dursley to arrive at his normal time as that will mean fewer witnesses around but also fewer potential innocent bystanders for him to involve or endanger."

"Got it."

"Bones!" Trevor rang through the house urgently. "Medical, get your arses down here now!"

The pounding of booted feet could be heard thundering down the stairs as the two nurses and healer abandoned their search of the upstairs rooms in response the abrupt summons, arriving in the hallway just seconds behind Amelia who'd come running from the kitchen.

They found a trembling Trevor squatting beside the opened door of the cupboard under the stairs and a green-around-the-gill Klouse hovering just a few steps behind. The younger man had his wand arm pressed tightly against his mouth and nose in an effort to staunch his nausea. Both of the two lawyers couldn't seem to take their eyes off whatever it was they'd discovered inside the tiny cupboard.

"Fuck me," Amelia breathed sharply in horror as she leaned in to peer inside the tiny closet, her usual colorful array of curses failing her in the face of the vileness that had been uncovered.

"Get him out of there," Trevor hoarsely ordered when he finally realized the medical team had arrived on the scene.

He moved numbly back out of the way as the two muggle nurses sprang into action, the two of them quickly grasping the corners of the towel the boy lay on lifting him off the floor while simultaneously turning and pulling him free of the cupboard. They then proceeded to carry him to the nearest table where Healer Jake Weber had swept an assortment of Petunia's glass nick-knacks out of the way so they could set the boy up where he could perform a quick diagnosis.

"Son-of-a-goat-fuc-herder," Jake snapped as the results of his first diagnostic scan came back. "We're going to lose him!"

"No, we're not," one of the nurses countered. "His heart's still going, even if it is weak and unsteady, we can pull him back."

Trevor listened to the medics bicker back and forth as they scrambled to save the life of one little boy. Tears filled his eyes and his throat constricted painfully as he continued to stare into what he suspected had been the small boy's room for several years. Flashes of light from the camera splashed glaringly across the darkened and blood stained walls of the tiny room as the scene was forever burned into film. Behind him Klouse finally lost the battle with his stomach as he vomited loudly.

Amelia Bones on the other hand refused to look inside the dank room a second time once the boy had been removed. Her eyes had followed the progress of medic team as they carried the boy away from his prison. In her mind she recognized the small room for what it truly was, and was sickened by the mere thought of what one small boy was made to endure. So, instead of allowing her thoughts to focus on where the child had been found, she continued to stare at his gaunt face as the oxygen mask was slipped over his mouth and nose, and willed him to live.

It was at that moment, when young Potter's life very much hung in the balance, when the team sent to retrieve the Dursley boy from school returned with one fat, sullen boy in tow. They'd just entered the front door when the piggish boy caught sight of the man and woman working on saving Harry.

"Mummy," the boy called out loudly, in a voice full of glee, "Mummy, the freak is finally gone! The freak is gone, gone, gone for good. Won't daddy be so happy now that the freak won't be around anymore? Mummy, aren't you going to watch?"

The members of the extraction team that witnessed the perverse enjoyment the young whale of a boy derived from the very real possibility of the Potter heir dying were sickened by the sheer pleasure in Dudley Dursley's voice, almost as much as the state he'd been found in had. It was a harsh, but brief, look into what life had been like for Harry Potter at the hands of his vile relatives.

"I'll kill him," Trevor hissed as his attention was finally drawn to someplace other than the filthy cupboard. His hands rose of their own violation as he took a step towards the boy, only Klouse grabbing hold of his shoulder at the last second spared the Dursley boy's overly thick neck from being violently crushed by the now raging squib.

"Get him out of here, Carter," Amelia barked as she shook off her own shock. "He's of no use to us in his current state."

Klouse had to forcefully drag Trevor away from the area, with Trevor fighting against him every step of the way. Once they reached the backyard Klouse activated an emergency portkey he carried on his person and the two of them were carried away in a swirl of violent colors.

The moment his feet dropped roughly to the ground inside of Klouse's London office; Trevor dropped to his knees as he clutched his hands tightly against his stomach, threw his head back, and let out a primal scream that echoed through the entire suite of offices. Before the echoes had died away he screamed a second time, just as the door to the office burst open as those employees still working poured in to find out what was going on. Right behind them were the two young auror cadets detailed to watch over the witness and memories. If Trevor had been in his right mind, he would have scolded the two cadets for dereliction of duty; he didn't have it in him though.

Strangely, it was the site of the fiery young woman who had started the madness that morning peeking around the frame of the door from behind the aurors that brought him back to his senses. Worn and weary he simply sank forward onto the floor until his forehead touched the soothing coolness of the wood. Worried babbling broke out above him, but he paid it no mind, he merely closed his eyes and tried not to see the image of a broken boy surrounded by filth in a prison cell far crueler then those found in the bowels of Azkaban. The image had been forever seared into his soul though, overlapping and merging with the long ago memory of the brutalized body of his murdered wife.

Three hours later; when the rest of the team minus the social worker, a couple aurors, and the medics returned to the office, Trevor was still lying on the floor; though he'd long since rolled onto his back and turned his unseeing gaze to the ceiling. Klouse had taken a seat at his desk and for some reason Leticia Hall had seated herself on the floor not far from Trevor while one of her temporary body guards took up station just outside the office.

"Pull yourself together human," Backbiter growled at Trevor in irritation as the fierce goblin walked in on the emotionally charged vigil. "You are behaving like some wet behind the ears goblin infant before his first training session."

"I love you too," Trevor replied without feeling. "Status?"

"Critical," Amelia answered before the goblin could open his mouth. "They lost him twice after you left, but they had him back by the time the ambulance arrived. He's been admitted to Local County, to throw off the media, and the med team is sticking by his side. I detailed three of my more dependable boys to guard him. Kingsley will join them once the rest of the team has been debriefed. Sergeant Timmons is already en route as is our anonymous tipper; turns out she was watching the house from a near-by wall."

"What happened to the little boy? Is he going to be alright?" Leticia asked in the quiet that followed Amelia's brief report.

Trevor rolled over abruptly and pushed himself off the ground before moodily leaving the room, leaving behind an awkward silence in his wake.

"I haven't seen him this unstrung since the Wizengamot denied his demands for help in tracking down those that were responsible for his wife's death," Backbiter announced in a softer growl before following the other man.

"It's been a rough day," Klouse stated softly to no one in particular.

"To answer your question, Ms. Hall, we don't know. He… he was unconscious when we arrived. The prognosis is not good and he remains in critical condition," Amelia answered after a moment. "I wouldn't normally say anything, but if not for your help, we'd have been far too late to save him. If we can indeed save him even now."

"His parents abused him, didn't they?"

"No!" Klouse vehemently denied. "He was orphaned years ago; his parents would have never allowed him to be treated that way had they lived."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to accuse them, I didn't know and still don't really know who the boy is. I don't even know why he touched me as deeply as he did; there was just something that drew me to him."

"It was his magic," Trevor explained from the door. He'd returned after taking a few minutes to clean himself up and get his emotions under control. "His magic is alive in a way I've never seen before. I'd imagine when he's in full health and safe from the constant abuse, he's a very charismatic child. Or at least he was. Now? There's no telling, even if he survives at this point he will never be the child he could have been normally; an ordeal like he's experienced leaves its mark on one's soul and it can twist the mind and magic of one so young."

"Would it be possible for me to visit him? I feel like I need to do something, to apologize or tell him he wasn't forgotten. That someone cared for him, even if it wasn't enough to save him."

"We can arrange something," Trevor consented.

The four of them headed over to one of the larger conference rooms at that point into order to attend the official debriefing that would be happening any minute. The group entered to find most everyone else already there and impatiently waiting for the stragglers. Luckily, Trevor's group wasn't the last ones to arrive, that honor fell to one frazzled social worker and the bedraggled medical team.

"Shall we get this train wreck cleared off the tracks?" Sergeant Timmons sniped dramatically as the door was closed and locked. No one made any comments in reply as Amelia put up several privacy wards.

Amelia cleared her throat after a brief silence and brought the meeting to order and asked the medical team for the latest update.

"No change," came the curt reply.

"Betty, has the Dursley boy been placed?"

"That horrible little urchin needs to be placed in the bottom of an abandoned well, though I doubt the little blubber boy would fit inside," Betty, the social worker in charge of placing Dudley ground out somewhat hysterically. "I tried placing the boy with his paternal aunt; she refused him and adamantly swore up and down that there'd been a mistake. That the Dursleys never had any other child other than Dudley living with them. Apparently she's even spent several weeks' worth of vacations with her family since nineteen-eighty-one and has never seen or heard any evidence of the boy's presence around their house."

"Her reason for not taking the boy was financial hardship. The woman breeds and sells bull dogs for a living and has had a rough time selling off the pups the last two years. Might have something to do with the quality of the mutts she's producing or the fact she reeks like a distillery, though I couldn't say which. I didn't have time to line up a foster family, and he has no other maternal or paternal relatives, so he's spending the next few nights at one of the orphanages here in the city; I figured it would be better for him to be away from local gossipers who might try and hound him for information regarding the raid. Spoiled rotten brat pitched the biggest fit I'd ever seen from a six year old. He screamed bloody murder, swore worse than a sailor, and then physically attacked me. Took three orderlies from the facility to subdue him and carry him into the building."

"Thank you Betty, after a day or two can you arrange for the boy to undergo a complete psychoanalysis? We'll also need his records from the school he was attending. Moving back for just a moment, Jake, do we have a complete list of Mr. Potter's condition and injuries?"

"Nothing yet, Bonesy," the magical healer assigned to the medical team replied. "We'd not been able to get him stable enough to send him through a kitty scan (also called a SeeTee scan by the Muggles) or EmAreAye, let alone ship him out to have snapshots done of his bones. I tried scanning in the beginning but the magical output from my wand overwhelmed his system and sent him off to the abyss each time I tried. It's the other reason we moved him into a mug-ward as opposed to a private suite in Mungo's. Might be best to limit his contact with other magicals until his core and his condition stabilizes. It'll be at least a week a'fore we know more."

"From casual observation though, he's suffering from severe malnutrition and dehydration, numerous poorly healed lacerations, and running a high fever. I'd suspect an infection or two has settled in due to the fever. The lab should be running tests on the contents from the used diaper he was wearing and the blood that was drawn when he was checked into a room in ICU. Wish we could have brought him into London with us but it just wasn't practical, even with an airlift, to move him so far in his condition."

"Thanks, Jake, moving forward again," Amelia hedged while she visibly struggled to get her emotions under control. "Klouse, when you feel up to it, I need you and Howards to start extracting memories from the team. Each memory should start at the point we arrived at the library and end when each person arrived back here. I want a minimum of twenty copies of each and every memory labeled carefully, then pack one copy of each memory securely in a dozen or two boxes and send them out to the usual places for evidence storage. I also want at least five sets of memories placed in five separate vaults within Gringotts, including one inside the Potter Vault as an extra measure. I don't want any needless risks taken with the evidence we have collected so far."

"We need back up of the back ups because there will be people in high places attempting to steal, tamper with, or destroy pertinent information that might incriminate them. It's basically us against the world at this point boys and girls, and it's going to be one hell of a rough ride from here on out. Kingsley, I want you to do a memory dump and than hightail to the hospital and send those boys back here one at a time to so they can be debriefed. Addison, what did we get for photos?"

"I've got hundreds on both Muggle and Magical film from; the library, the neighborhood surrounding Number Four Privet Drive, a good many of the nutcase with the knife, eight full rolls, again both Magical and Muggle, of the prison cupboard, as well as a good number of the son and husband of the crack-job. I'm going back tomorrow with another case of film to shoot the rest of the house. I'll need clearance to snap a few of the boy too, but I can use a projecting pensieve for those, if necessary. All told, I've got close to one thousand pictures to sort, label, and copy for the evidence lockers and vaults."

"Thanks, Addison. Hansley, what physical evidence did we bring out of the house?"

"From the general house; just the bloody knife the woman had in her hand, initial scans proved the blood to be from the chicken she'd been butchering. Outside we found some traces of blood, matching the victim's type, inside several rubbish bins along with some bloody rags and soiled diapers similar to the one the boy was wearing when he was removed from the storage space. That cupboard under the stairs turned out to be a veritable goldmine of clues; every bit confirming that the space had been used as the boy's prison for quite some time."

Lettie gasped and pressed both hands over her mouth at that point as she fought back the tears and sobs so she could hear the rest of the report.

"Blood stains, urine stains, and fecal matter were found on every item of clothing in the small room – these include two towels, a pillow case, an old blanket, and a single change of clothes or rather rags (pants, shirt, underwear, and socks). There was a pile of unused disposable diapers (similar to the soiled ones found in the rubbish outside), several disposable plates and bowls with half-eaten or untouched food, a plastic bottle of yellow liquid (the contents appear to be chicken broth but that will need to be confirmed by the lab), a letter addressed to Harry James Potter (dated to be opened on July thirty-first, nineteen-ninety-one) sharing many traits with the letter addressed to Mr. Matheson, a moldy stack of cardboard that was used as a bed, an ornate locket and chain that appears to be a magically created copy covered in the blood, several shards of broken glass coated in blood, traces of grit and dust that tested positive for House Elf DNA, a highly magical bag that we were unable to open (contents listed as unidentified) that resonates with the same magic as found in both letters, and the door of the cupboard containing twelve different locking mechanisms on the outer side, three of which were added fairly recently when compared to the other, rusted locks."

Complete silence filled the room as everyone digested the list, Hansley nodded grimly as he met each person's gaze before continuing.

"That doesn't include the high number of hairs, dried body fluids, fingernail bits, dead skin, and other physical evidence confirming the boy's near constant presence inside the cupboard. The initial carbon datings on the traceable particles reaches as far back as December nineteen-eighty-one. There was also evidence of physical damage on the inside walls and door; small groves dug into the wood and drywall by tiny fingernails, different lengths of blond hairs (suspected to have come from at least one, if not all three Dursleys) stuck around the door jam, wrapped around the locks, and in the hinges. Next we have numerous instances of fingerprints, matching all three Dursleys plus the child, inside the cupboard and out. While the child vic prints are all over the inside of the cupboard, covering practically ever available surface, the prints of the three Dursleys are concentrated around and on the door jam, inside and out, as well as on the locks bolted to the outside of the cupboard. Of the three Dursleys, Vernon and Petunia's prints make up the majority of those found, while Dudley's (the podgy boy with a violent streak) are mostly found on the outside, in the middle of the door; as if he'd spent numerous occasions banging on the outside frequently."

"Anything else?" Amelia inquired softly, her voice crackling with suppressed emotions. She waited for the negative headshake and than pushed the meeting forward. "Sergeant Timmons, Bud, can you give us a summary of the results of the interviews of the immediate neighbors? And a list of local gossip and rumors about the boy and that family?"

"Preliminary results from the interviews of neighbors living on Privet Drive were all pretty much of the same mold. The people questioned were firmly of the belief that there was only one boy living within the confines of Number Four, one Dudley Dursley, and no other child matching the description of the vic was ever seen in the presence of either adult Dursley," Sergeant Timmons reported concisely. "We don't even run into a whiff of a rumor until we interviewed the parents of a couple of Dudley's classmates, and then it was only a ghost of whispered rumors about Dudley bragging about keeping 'his freak of a cousin' in his place. None of those parents could give a description of the boy or any other details than that though."

"In and around the town library, other than what we've already heard from Ms. Hall and her boss, no one ever even saw the boy hovering on the edge of the reading area. Not even the two groups of children we interviewed, those that attended the two readings regularly, had seen the boy. Next mention we have of a possible lead comes from a few elderly families over on Magnolia Crescent, and these are stories of a 'Ghost Child' that sometimes appeared on the street in around lunchtime. The pattern of his appearances is similar and consistent with the known dates that the child put in an appearance in the middle of the library's afternoon readings. Most never saw more than a fleeting glimpse of the ghostly figure with dark hair as it moved in and out of the shadows."

"Could there be wards placed on the boy to make him appear unnoticed except to people who have direct knowledge of his presence? Such as a notice-me-not charm, a muggle repelling wards, or modified Fidelius that would cause him to be mostly ignored or forgotten by those that saw him?" Trevor wondered out loud when Sergeant Timmons finished.

"It's possible," Jake admitted slowly, giving the idea much consideration, "we wouldn't be able to test that theory until the boy stabilized though, given that the scans involved would involve too much disruptive magical energy aimed directly at his core."

The meeting was interrupted at this point by Rebecca, the office secretary, opening the door and admitting a cloak covered figure. Amelia seemed to have been waiting for the hidden person's arrival, or at least expecting it, because the moment Rebecca left the office, the aged head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement reset the series of privacy wards and added magical locks all around the walls, door, and windows of the small office.

"Thanks boys," Amelia tossed absently in the direction of the healer and muggle officer. "If you have anything else add we'll come back to it in a bit. In the mean time I'll have a sworn oath from everyone present not to reveal anything you hear or see from this point forward to any person not currently in this room for any reason, unless it is cleared by me." She waited until she received the requested oaths, than beckoned the cloaked figure to approach her.

Once the figure reached the center of the room, the hood of the cloak was dropped to reveal the stern visage of Professor Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Wizardry and Witchcraft. Those that knew her, seemed a touch shocked by her sudden appearance.

"Dumbledore knows something has happened and that Harry Potter has been removed from his relatives," McGonagall stated without preamble. "He had monitoring wards tied to the boy and the house he lived in and alarms sounded the moment the magicals not tied into the wards crossed their invisible barrier. He also received an urgent report from Arabella Figg, one of the residents that had been questioned about the boy by the officers in charge of the investigation. He's at the ministry now, pulling strings, trying to find the boy and his relatives so that they can be returned to the house immediately."

"What!" several voices cried out in indignation, horror, and rage.

"Explain," Amelia barked tersely.

McGonagall visibly sagged and leaned back against Trevor's desk as she began her long narrative. "Albus was one of the first ones to arrive at the scene on the night the Potters were attacked. If I was a suspicious person, I'd say he was there before the attack actually took place but I have no proof. He'd called Hagrid by Patronus to go and investigate the scene; which thinking back was kind of strange because according to what I know, Albus could have investigated it himself as he was already there, though I'm not one hundred percent certain that he was. Hagrid must have gone as requested though, because he returned sometime later and handed young Harry over to the school matron to be screened for injuries."

"I wasn't aware of that until later though, the first indication I had that something had happened was when I'd run into Hagrid when he was leaving the Hospital Wing of the School and immediately noticed he was distraught. He bawled out that James and Lily were dead. I asked him if he knew where Albus was, thinking incorrectly at the time, that he'd need to be informed and was told by Hagrid that he was sequestered with the Wizengamot for the rest of the night and expected to be most of the next day as well. He let slip that Dumbledore had mentioned having an appointment in Little Whinging around midnight the next night though, something quite out of character for the Headmaster."

"Flustered by the news, I immediately left and found my way to the address Hagrid had given me as Albus's destination. I had intended to simply wait for the Headmaster to put in an appearance so I could speak with him the first chance I got. I ended up spending the entire day observing the Muggles living in Number Four. What I saw disgusted me to no end. They were the worst sort of Muggles I had ever had the displeasure of encountering, and I have come across thousands of them through my duties as Deputy Headmistress of the school."

"The man was a boorish oaf, much given to violent tendencies; he tried kicking me when I was disguised as my cat animagus form, and repeatedly screamed out foul obscenities at the neighborhood dogs and kids. His wife was a gossip-mongering, weak willed idiot that could barely be bothered to take proper care of their son. Oh she fed him, changed his diaper, and spent time with him for sure; but she gave in to his every whim. If the balloon of a boy had been a full grown wizard I would have had him pegged as having his mother under an Imperius Curse what with the way she appeared to cater to his wishes. If he so much as shed a tear (real or imagined) she would rush to sooth him with some sweet or other such rubbish. His fits of rage and defiance were met with praise and he was pushed around everywhere inside a ridiculous contraption instead of being made to exercise. He was, at the time, approximately two and a half years old – though he looked to weigh as much as a child two or three times his age."

"That night, when Albus finally appeared, he confirmed some of the rumors and admitted that the family in Number Four was the only living relatives of young Harry. I argued with him about his decision to leave the boy there. I told him _exactly_ what kind of people they were and he brushed off my concerns with the reasoning that they were his family. Said it was best the young child grow up away from the fame the wizarding world would foist upon the child for the events of the previous night."

"What happened next I'll never quite understand. Instead of announcing his presence and handing the child over personally, he placed the child in an enchanted sleep and set him on the porch in a blanket with a letter and ordered Hagrid (who had delivered the boy to Dumbledore) and myself to leave. I know I objected, quite adamantly but the next thing I know I'm waking up in my quarters back at Hogwarts and my recollection of the previous night's events missing completely. Until earlier this month when everything came flooding back."

"It wasn't until I heard the vaguest whispers of an investigation late this morning that I knew what I could do with the knowledge I now had, which led me to you. I need to keep my name out of the official reports because of how much time I spend in Albus's presence dealing with school related matters. Just today, I had spent the much of the day in his office going over grades of this year's students when the first alarms went off. I did what I could to divert his attention away from your efforts, but I doubt I made much of a difference. The one thing that bothers me about his behavior at that point; was that he didn't react the way I thought he would."

"He didn't storm off in a righteous rage, he didn't call in the aurors to protect Harry from a possible attack, and he didn't even send Hagrid in to spirit the boy out from under the 'invading' force as he did the night Lily and James died. He looked scared. No, he was beyond terrified. He looked like he feared for his life. Then in the blink of an eye he was back to his emotionless self, erupting into a flurry of activity as he scrambled to get things back to the way they were before this afternoon. It was like he was two different people."

There were mixed reactions when McGonagall finished her tale, chief among them were disbelief, anger, disgust, frustration, regret, and deep sorrow. After the silence became too oppressive, McGonagall asked the one question that seemed to be most frequently on everyone's mind since the raid.

"Is little Harry going to be alright?"

"That is the question of the day," Trevor breathed tiredly. "And the bottom line is we don't know, he was in critical condition last we heard."

"Sweet Circe," McGonagall groaned. "I wish that I could have done something to help get him out of there sooner."

"We all do, Professor, we all do."

"What happens now?" Lettie tentatively asked as she glanced around the various faces in the room.

"We investigate and put together our case. And we protect our witnesses, primarily you, and the boy with everything we have at our –"

"Hey, Trev," Klouse interrupted from where he sat perched on the edge of the large table in the center of the room. "Did you ever open the mysterious letter that started this entire mess?"

"What letter?" Amelia demanded as she fixed Trevor with a stern glare.

"This one," Klouse clarified as he levitated the item in question out from the box of memories and notes that had been brought out of Trevor's office. "Ms. Hall delivered it this morning when she barged into the office quite unexpectedly. It's protected with more charms and wards than a Virgin Princess set to be sacrificed in a purity ritual in honor of the old gods. It's addressed to one Trevor Lynn Matheson, Esquire."

"Shite on a Hippogriff," Amelia cursed, "You're telling me that this whole thing, that the entire reason you called me in alarm this morning was over a simple letter?"

"Yes and no, I admit the letter worried me, deeply, and I'd intended to ask you to look it over earlier, but I didn't have Rebecca contact you until after we discovered Mr. Potter's situation. Once I'd seen the memory, all thoughts of the letter slipped my mind until now, we had more important things in the works at the time, after all," Trevor clarified. "I trust Klouse's identification of the protections on it but wanted a more in depth scan run on it as a precaution because according to what we do know about it, if the wrong person tries to open it they're as good as dead."

"Merlin's sweaty…" Amelia half cursed again as she began firing detection spells at the envelope in rapid succession. "If this one is representative of the wards on the other letter addressed to young Potter and the mysterious bag found in his prison, this is some seriously illegal and highly defensive shit. The ward spells are all tied in with rune schemes too, which makes its self sustaining. I haven't seen anything like this since Moody emptied out his locker at the academy and even then, his weren't this dangerous!"

"Feeling lucky, Trev?" Hansley quipped sarcastically as everyone stared at the not-quite-innocent looking letter where it once more rested on the table.

"Am I going to die?" Lettie whispered fearfully in the short lull. "I carried that letter around with me everywhere for an entire month. That little boy had it before me; could that be why he's so close to death? For that matter, Francine touched it before me, should we warn her about what may happen because of that?"

"If the letter's magic was going to hurt you or the boy, it would have done so the moment you touched it the first time. You'd have been fried to a crisp or blown into a million or more pieces by the wards involved. As it stands, you would have had to have made an attempt to open the letter in order to read the contents to trigger those same wards. As you are still here, alive and kicking, I'm going to assume you didn't try to open the envelope," Kingsley dryly pointed out. "As for Harry Potter, who knows? His magical signature is layered thickly all over both letters, the locket, and the mysterious bag. If it I didn't know it was impossible, I'd say the boy is the one who charmed the protections on all of the items; not including the locket, which didn't have any. I don't see how he could have that kind of knowledge or ability though, not at his age."

Lettie sagged in relief that she wouldn't have to expect to die horribly at the hands of the letter but blanched at the rather brief description of what would have happened to her had she tried to open the envelope.

"I guess that means I get to perform my first ever feat of magic," Trevor drawled with bitterness. "If I hadn't lived through this past day personally, I'd have figured this entire charade as an elaborate plan to have me eliminated by one of the many wizards I've prosecuted through the years."

"Cut the theatrics, and let's crack the seal and find out who the mysterious letter writer with a killer knowledge of protective wards has to say," Timmons ordered.

The entire room held its collective breath as Trevor lifted the envelope in his bare hand and ran his finger under the wax seal on the back. The seal crumbled to dust (as if it were decades old) that floated to the floor unheeded as Trevor opened the flap of the envelope and pulled out a thick sheaf of parchment paper that had been folded into thirds. The letter appeared much larger and thicker than what an envelope could normally hold but a quick scan confirmed the presence of an expansion charm placed on the inside in order to make room for the document. Compared to the condition of the envelope, complete with bloody fingerprints and numerous creases where it had been folded or crumpled, the letter was in pristine condition. It had obviously been magically preserved and protected before being sealed inside the envelope.

Clearing his throat; Trevor unfolded the papers and attempted to read the letter out loud, so that everyone could hear what it contained. The moment he opened his mouth though he was struck with a rather violent coughing fit. He tried twice more before Amelia thought to test the parchment for additional protections and found three wards that prevented the recipient of the letter from sharing the contents.

"Don't bother Trevor, the protections won't allow you to actively share it with us," Amelia advised him once she knew what was happening. "You'll just have to summarize what information you'll be allowed to share once you've read it through the first time."

Trevor nodded grimly as sat down in his chair as he began to read the letter to himself. The further along he read, the stiffer he held himself. The expression on his face going from disbelief and cynicism to incredulity and doubt before turning into anger and finally regret as he reached the end. Finished, he looked blankly off to one side as he dropped the hand holding the letter listlessly to his side.

When prodded for any information he could provide them about the contents, all he could tell them was, "There is something seriously wrong with our world."

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> _Now that Harry is out from under the Dursleys, there will only be a few mentions of the things he suffered under their care in the form of flashbacks and memories in addition to a more information on the injuries (both existing and long term) that he suffered. As I said before, everything that has happened to Harry is important because that is what shaped Harry's personality and behavior in this story. He is not going to miraculously recover overnight and his experiences will affect him for the rest of his life in some ways but that doesn't mean that they will always hamper him; please keep that in mind when reading future chapters._

_About Dudley's behavior in this chapter... I see him as a product of his environment and with the Dursleys as bad as they were it is somewhat expected that he would be just as bad which is how I sought to portray him. He is also young enough to speak without thinking; which is why he said the things he did. Trevor's reaction to Dudley's attitude and words might seem a little extreme, however, given the circumstances and Harry's condition I don't think it too unlikely for a grown man to lose control of himself. Don't worry; he isn't going to be as angst ridden for the rest of the series though there will be a moment or two here and there when the situation calls for it.  
><em>

_I'm aware that the two lawyers being as involved in the case as they are is not very likely but there is a reason why Trevor is as involved as he is (aside from the fact that his older self also participated in the ritual to send Kreacher back in time). That information will be coming up fairly soon, I think. As for the number of 'muggles' that seemed to be involved and aware of the magical world, in the world I created the Department of Magical Law Enforcement maintains contacts within each county in order to help them deal with incidents that cross both worlds. Those muggles that appeared in this chapter are a few of those contacts; muggles that are related or married to a witch or wizard or are themselves a squib that turned to the muggle world to escape the prejudice. _

__For those of you who are curious to know what the letter said, bit and pieces of it will be revealed throughout the rest of the story and in the sequels as well as various plots unravel. _Next chapter focuses on what is happening with Harry and shows a few hints of the storm that will soon hit the wizarding world. ~ Jenn_


	6. The Long Vigil

**Disclaimer: **_All HP characters are the property of JKR, the WB, and respective publishing companies - this is nothing more than a simple FanFiction that I have written. I have made no money from this or any of the other stories I have posted on this or other sites._

**AN:** _Story beta'd by my R/L daughter Sillyhobbit_.

**Note:** _The views and actions of the Dursleys that are referenced in this chapter are in no way, shape or form endorsed or promoted by me, the author, of this story. The abuse (both borderline and blatant) and the related injuries mentioned are simply used to portray one of the many possible relationships that Harry might have had with his relatives while growing up._

* * *

><p><em><strong><span>Chapter 6: The Long Vigil<span>**_

_May 10, 1985 11:23 AM_

Lettie walked in as Trevor held the door open for her, the two aurors on either side of the doorway completely ignoring her as they surveyed passing doctors, nurses, patients, and visitors for possible threats. This would be her first time visiting the little boy, _Harry, _she reminded herself, since he'd been admitted to a local community hospital in Surrey near Little Whinging. Her first view of him took her breath away and brought tears to her eyes.

"He looks so… so small and lost," she whispered emotionally as she hesitantly made her way closer. "You can barely see him for all the wires and tubes. Oh, the poor, poor boy."

Trevor didn't say anything. This was his twelfth such visit and while the sight of the boy lying there all trussed up bothered him deeply it still couldn't erase that first frightening image of the boy inside of his prison cupboard. Tenderly, Lettie reached out and took hold of Harry's right hand as she reached the side of his bed. Letting her fingers softly stroke his tiny fingers as she let her tears fall unchecked.

"I am so sorry, so very, very sorry, child. If I had known I would have never let you leave the first time I saw you appear in the library."

Trevor carried over a chair for Leticia to sit in, before retreating to the window where he silently stared out over the hospital courtyard without seeing it. His mind was thousands of miles away as he listened to the sound of Leticia's voice as she spoke to the boy.

"I brought that story with me, you know," Lettie announced emotionally. "I thought maybe, you'd like to hear the entire book from beginning to end. You missed out on a good portion of the story after all. Would you like to know the name of the book? I bet you would, it's called _The Wind in the Willows_ and it was written by a man named Kenneth Grahame. It's a story about a rat, a mole, a badger, and a toad; and it was one of my all time favorite stories when I was growing up."

"Let's begin, shall we… Chapter one: The River bank…"

And so Lettie read to Harry about the adventures of Mr. Toad and his friends for the next two hours, her voice soft and melodious as she worked her way through chapter one and into chapter two. She would have kept right on reading too, if not for the arrival of the nurse wanting to check Harry's vital signs and switch out the nearly empty saline drip bag with a fresh one.

This was Trevor's cue to rejoin the world of the living. He silently collected the highly emotional Ms. Hall and led her out of the room, down to the elevators, and helped her into the passenger seat of his nineteen-fifty-nine Austin-Healey. He then climbed in on the driver's side, started the engine, pulled out of the parking lot, and headed north towards his office in London.

As he pulled into the parking structure located directly behind the building that housed his offices, Leticia spoke up for the first time since leaving the hospital; "He's never going to get any better, is he? I can see it in your eyes and can read between the lines of the scant few reports I've been allowed to see. So don't tell me I don't know what I'm talking about. I want… no, I need to know the truth."

Trevor parked the car and slipped the gears into neutral, the engine idling roughly as he stared off to one side. Finally, he turned the key and an uneasy silence filled the car as he turned to face the woman beside him. "The truth is we don't know. By all accounts he should have died a day or two after his last visit to the library according to all of the reports on his various injuries. None of those involved, especially those of us with magical ties, want to admit that any hope of him recovering is lost. He represents… he is seen as a symbol of hope in the wizarding world. Most witches and wizards see him as the only thing standing between them and the dark times of the seventies. If he dies, the magicals will panic and the fallout will be impossible to contain. Is it fair? No, he's just a broken little boy. But, right or wrong, that is what ninety percent of the magicals believe as gospel truth."

"Oh," Lettie murmured as she turned to stare at her lap.

"Come, we can't very well sit here all day," Trevor ordered as he climbed out of the car and locked his door.

Leticia followed his example and the two of them made their way in through the back door of the office building where they were immediately greeted by an excited Klouse.

"Did you hear the news? You must have heard the news, you were just there!"

"What news?" Trevor demanded a bit sharply.

"Harry's shown an abrupt increase in brain activity, Jake's been called in to run a few magical scans once they finish running a battery of tests on his condition. Didn't they tell you that before you left?"

Leticia and Trevor exchanged a glance before both of them grabbed hold of Klouse and dragged him back towards the car. Five minutes later they were back on the road heading south towards Surrey.

They arrived to find a large group gathered just outside of Harry's room. Trevor pushed his way forward intending on entering the room when he found himself face to face with an irate Healer Weber. "All of you will need to find somewhere else to wait. We've got dozens of tests to run now that he's shown some sign of waking – and yes, that means he's still in a coma – and you crowding into the room is only going to hinder our efforts. So go stake out a waiting room and I'll brief you when we're finished!"

Most of those standing around the room sheepishly retreated to the nearest waiting area, leaving behind a determined Trevor and Amelia Bones in addition to the auror guards on duty.

"That includes the two of you," Jake dryly added before shutting the door in their faces.

"I guess that means we wait with the rest of the cavalry," Amelia growled out without any real anger.

"You know what's most aggravating?" Trevor remarked as they slowly walked away. "I was here less than an hour and a half ago; mere minutes before the news was sent out."

"How are you holding up, Trev? Klouse has hinted you've been falling apart since the day we rescued Mr. Potter."

"It's Grizela's murder all over again, Amelia," Trevor confessed as he stopped walking just outside of the waiting room. "I keep seeing him stuffed inside of that damned cupboard and he's wearing Zela's face. I wake up two and three times a night in a cold sweat because I'm having nightmares, and nothing I do helps. Great Rhys* above, the boy is the closest thing to a family I have – not counting my two oldest sisters, both of whom refuse to acknowledge my continued existence. My Grizela was Harry's paternal grandfather's grand-niece; she was just a few years older than Harry's father and had often spoke of the pranks and mischief he got up to at Hogwarts with his three friends. I may not be a blood relative, but had my Zela lived, you can bet your last Sickle we'd have been involved in young Harry's life the minute he was born."

Here Trevor broke off and stared off vacantly in the direction of Harry's room. "If I hadn't been so wrapped up in bringing her murderers to justice I might still have been a part of his life. I failed him, Amelia, I failed him badly."

"We all did, Trev."

"No, Amelia, not like I failed him. It was all there in that blasted letter, he explained everything to me. And while he never came right out and said it, I could feel it in his words," Trevor countered. "I failed him. I could have made a difference."

"You are making a difference now. Without you, we'd have never known he was suffering at the hands of those… those _freaks_. We sure as hell would not have been organized quickly enough to bring him out alive without you bringing us all together. So long as he lives, we can hope to have the time to make it up to him."

"She's right you know," Leticia added from just behind Trevor, where she'd been listening for the last several minutes. "Dwelling on what has happened and on what might happen will only drive us all crazy. Something I think we are all a touch guilty of when it comes to little Harry. Only we have the power change how we act and react to whatever is thrown our way next. And if we can't find hope in our hearts that things can be better, then we've already lost before we've begun."

Without another word she turned around and reentered the waiting room, Amelia and Trevor following silently on her heels. Together, the mixed group of wizards and muggles sat and waited for an update.

_May 10, 1985 9:23 PM_

Trevor was dozing fitfully when Jake walked into the waiting room and loudly cleared his throat to obtain the attention of those still waiting on news. "We've a list of results from the tests, mostly muggle in nature as foreign magic still showed signs of disrupting his magical stability. We can secure this room here or we can meet back at the office for guaranteed privacy and tighter security."

"Can we see him?" Lettie inquired.

"Sorry, no, I'm afraid he'll not be allowed visitors for at least the next week. He's been declared stable enough to operate on and they've got him on the table now; hoping to correct some of his internal injuries. Something they dared not try before now in fear of losing him in the process. Once he's finished with the series of operations, he'll be moved back into his old room and given a few days to re-stabilize and at that point he'll be allowed visitors once more."

"Let's head back to the office and gather everyone together," Amelia decided as she took note of how few people were left waiting to hear the news. "I can think of three people off the top of my head who would appreciate being there to hear what you have to report."

"I've got an emergency Portkey with me," Klouse offered as the group rose to their feet. "I can come back for any vehicles later. If everyone can grab hold?"

Once everyone was touching the charmed pocket watch, Klouse activated it with his wand and the seven of them were transported to his office in two shakes of a dog's tail. Leticia, who had never experienced magical travel before, promptly threw up on the floor the moment she crashed to the floor.

"Sorry 'bout that, Ms. Hall, should have warned you it would be a bit of a wild ride," Klouse apologized as he helped her onto her feet and vanished her mess from the floor.

Trevor then told the others to head to the largest conference room while he sent out calls and gathered up some refreshments. Lettie offered to give him a hand but he shooed her away when he noticed how pale and shaken she still appeared to be. Forty-five minutes later close to fifty people, and goblins, had gathered in the conference room and were nervously awaiting the Healer's report.

"As most of us are aware, at approximately two-thirty-eight this afternoon it was noted that Harry Potter was exhibiting increased brainwave activity," Jake began. "This sparked a flurry of activity within the hospital, as he was wheeled out of the room and taken for a series of SeeTees, EmAreAyes, and complete skeletal imaging. While the results of those were being viewed by the experts, Mr. Potter was wheeled into an operating room where they immediately began prepping him for surgery."

"While the individual injuries by themselves are non-life-threatening, when combined together along with the severe malnutrition and dehydration it's a wonder he was still breathing. It explains why we nearly lost him a couple dozen times when we first pulled him out of that cesspool. I have here a magical copy of each of the scans in addition to the results of the other diagnostic tests that were run the day he was admitted."

Jake took a moment to hang several enlarged images and x-rays on the west wall where they could easily be viewed by everyone in the room. "We'll start with the easiest ones, the skeletal images. Going from head to toe, well start with the multiple skull fractures on the back of the head and left temple, the one in the back showing signs of heavy inflammation and infection; what we believe might be one of the causes for his coma. The second fracture, while a tad inflamed, seems to be an older injury and not directly affecting our boy's condition. Moving down, we come to a series of hairline fractures around the base of the neck, exact cause unknown, though we do have suspicions, they won't be a real problem until the boy wakes up and begins moving on his own. Like the lesser of the two skull fractures, these appear to be older injures."

"On the right clavicle (or collar bone) you can see a slight bowing, this is the result of severe strain or stress but easily treated and corrected, in addition to more hairline fractures. Moving down to the right wrist, we find two oblique fractures that are both infected, and another series of hairline cracks. On the left arm we found no major or minor breaks of note but his left shoulder was dislocated sometime in the last year and never properly set back into place. Heading back to the spine, from the base of the neck all the way down to the tail bone there's just one long series of hairline cracks spidering down the kid's back. Ages on these ones vary, some are older and some are fairly recent."

"His ribs have a few cracks on the left side, all infected and fairly newer when compared to some of the other injuries we've discussed so far. Four of the lower ribs on both sides have been dislocated from the sternum – incidentally these include the cracked ribs on the left. That brings us down to the pelvic area, where we find yet another series of hairline cracks specifically through pelvic girdle – or ilium. Next we have both knees displaying a severe case of chondromalacia – this basically means the patella (kneecap) shows signs of rubbing against the cartilage causing damage to the cartilage, something usually found in athletes or elderly patients."

"Both tibias have numerous hairline fractions, and the right ankle has been broken at least twice. Summary? Aside from the breaks and dislocations caused by injuries, his bones are displaying extremely poor bone density due to severe long term malnutrition; what we believe is the cause behind the numerous hairline fractures. As you can see, the worst of the damage occurring in the spine, hips, and legs those portions of the body dealing with the majority of stress related to standing, walking, and running. The malnutrition is most likely the reason why he appears to be so small; his body just didn't have the nutrients it needed to grow."

"The last thing you can see in these pictures in the presence of multiple shards of opaque glass present in the facial structure, chest and stomach area, the palms of his hands and in his thighs. Most are smaller slivers with the exception of a few of the deeper ones in his abdomen. We suspect them to have come from the same source of glass as the bloody shards that were found in his cupboard. Many of the points of entry have become infected at this point. Others have healed over completely with the shards still inside, further scarring in those general areas could be contributed to slivers of glass that had been removed at some point."

"Moving on to the EmAreAye scans, we have a visual of the muscle and tissue damage he has obtained during his short life. His muscles are severely atrophied, he has absolutely no body fat, and his tendons and ligaments show signs of multiple tears, especially around the shoulder, elbow, hip, and knee joints. Organ tissues are little better as they are suffering from the acute malnutrition; his heart, lungs and nervous system taking the hardest hits right after his digestive track; which shows evidence of prolonged and frequent starvation."

"That just leaves the SeeTee scans, which generally confirm what we already know from the combination of x-rays and the EmAreAyes. The major scan we'll be looking at right now is the scan they did of Harry's brain. If you look at the bottom of the first scan image, you can see the skull fracture clearly, along with the swelling surrounding it. What the SeeTee also shows in the hemorrhaging that has occurred inside the skull; putting pressure directly on the occipital lobe and on the cerebellum."

"Can you describe what that means in layman's terms?" Amelia requested.

"Yes, of course. A hemorrhage is a build up of fluids on or around the brain (or other part of the body); usually blood. Of the two areas directly affected by the hemorrhaging around Harry's injury, the first is the occipital lobe, which is associated with visual processing. Basically this part of the brain is where the images you see are processed; damage can lead to partial or complete blindness, image distortion, or visual hallucinations, depending on the type and severity of damage. The cerebellum, the second area affected by the hemorrhaging, is associated with the regulation and coordination of movement, posture, and balance. Injuries to the cerebellum can cause an individual to have mild to severe problems controlling their movements, depending on how badly the cerebellum was injured. The most obvious examples would be a inclination to stagger and sway when walking (appearing as though highly inebriated), difficulty with fine motor skills (such as required for writing or eating with a utensil), and a tendency to lean to one side when sitting or standing."

"Is the hemorrhaging the reason Harry was rushed into surgery this afternoon?"

"Yes, Professor McGonagall, though when they prepped him for the operation they didn't exactly know the nature of the injury they'd be working on first; they simply got him set up and called in a specialist once they knew which direction they'd be working in."

"How soon can we find out the results of that operation?"

"Probably not until sometime tomorrow or the day after," Jake replied.

"Any other injuries or information you can tell us? What about magical scans?"

"I have no other information on hand right now as far as his injuries or condition. I do have the limited results of the two scans I performed though," Jake answered as he pulled a piece of parchment out of his pocket. "The first scan I did was a simple magical core scan; results were positive but with abnormal results. Bluntly put, his core is there, it is functioning, but it's not acting or reacting the way it's supposed to."

"What?" Trevor cried out, his face draining of all color as the memories of a similar diagnosis resurfaced from the depths of his sub-consciousness.

"His magic is out of sync with his core. I'd hazard a guess to say that it's a direct result of his injuries and maladies but until I can do a full, in-depth scan I can't say what the problem is. I can, however," Jake explained further. "Say what it is not. It is not an indication of the presence of the Thurkellian Curse, nor is it an indication that Harry will completely lose his magic."

"Thank you," Trevor whispered in relief. "That is one stigma I would spare any child."

"I understand, which is why I compared the results I got from Harry's scan with all the known scans from cases of Thurkellian's. Standard procedure actually, when dealing with core anomalies nowadays."

"And the second scan you performed?"

"Ah, yes, I scanned him for wards, blocks, and protection charms. Thankfully there are no existing blocks on his core, we'd have lost him if there had been. I did find lingering evidence of some kind of rune based ward but the residues were far too faint to determine the nature of the ward. There was also some kind of blood linked ward that appeared to have been recently severed, what I could piece together from the magic left behind is that Harry's magic was being used as a base power for the ward. Meaning he was nothing more than the battery that allowed the ward to function. Nasty thing to do to a child let alone a full grown wizard. I found nothing else."

"Were you able to determine the castor's signature on the blood based ward?"

"No, but I'll turn my results over to you, Bonesy, after they've been copied, if you want to run them yourself."

"That will be fine. Let's get a team set to making duplicates of all the scans, pictures, and reports and get them deposited with the other evidence files."

"Shall we address the media coverage of the case against the Dursleys?" Klouse inquired as several of the Aurors each grabbed a handful of charts, scans and images and began duplicating them.

"We've been able to keep the details out of the press but we can't stop them from printing stories in the papers," Sergeant Timmons commented. "Bloody reporters are worse than rats and cockroaches if you ask me, always coming out of the woodwork at even the slightest hint of a scandal or disaster. These types of cases are their bread and water it seems. And we can't stop the neighborhood gossip biddies from spilling all they know; rumor, fact, or opinion, it doesn't matter, they have to pass it on to the nearest ear."

"We've got our own blood thirsty types in wizarding media too; thankfully this is one scandal that hasn't yet crossed the barrier between worlds. Dumbledore is doing his best to keep a lid on things and so far he's doing a good job of it. We'll need to prepare a statement though soon, for both sides of the fence, in order to keep the facts from getting strewed out of proportion."

"So long as we keep this story out of the papers on the wizarding side until we have a better idea on whether Harry will recover or not, we should be fine. If Rita or the Prophet gets wind of this now, and we don't have proof him making any progress, they'll stir up the population and create riots that will have the boy ripped from the muggle side and tossed to the wolves in St. Mungo's and we'll lose him completely in his current state."

"Rita is the biggest issue," Amelia added with the hint of a snarl. "She's either got well over a thousand soundly placed contacts or she's using illegal means to gather the information she does. I'm betting it's the latter but I can't prove anything until she slips up; something she's not done as of yet. And the damn pureblood protection laws prevent me from slipping Veritaserum into her tea and questioning her like nobody's business."

"Personally, I'd like to dose Delores Umbridge up and see what she has to say. Little toad always acts so smug and knowing when I see her," Trevor growled. "Though, Amelia, you and I will have to get together one day and discuss Rita. I have some information that might help you but you'd have to find a way to actually prove it."

Amelia glanced sharply at the middle aged lawyer only to see him flash her a glimpse of the crumpled and blood stained envelope that held the letter he now carried with him everywhere. She gave him a reluctant nod and moved the meeting forward to cover the new security measures that would need to be in place since Harry would frequently be moved in and out of his room from this point forward. In the end, two additional Aurors would be assigned to the hospital, bringing the total up to six men posted within the hospital at any given time. Two patrolling the lobby and grounds, two standing guard at his room, and two to escort Harry around the hospital. Invisibility cloaks were issued to the Aurors on duty with the instructions that they were only to use them in case of an emergency and only to hide theirs and Harry's presence within the hospital should any undesirables discover his immediate location.

On the other side of the equation, Trevor had the muggle trials of the adult Dursleys scheduled to start towards the end of June. Leaving the group plenty of time to finish processing all the evidence that had been gathered and have a defense team assigned to each of the Dursleys by the courts as the two adults had refused to put forth the effort to hire one for themselves. Their wizarding trials would be delayed until Harry, hopefully, returned to consciousness.

There were only a few more points to be addressed before the meeting broke up and each party went their separate ways. Klouse apparated to Surrey and retrieved Trevor's car as promised before heading home for the night, leaving Trevor as the last one still in the conference room. He held in his hand an extra full body x-ray that had been left behind in the exodus. Tears prickling at the back of his eyes as he stared at the body of the broken child. Reaching into his vest, he pulled out the letter that had been delivered to him by round-about-courier. According to the letter, Kreacher the House Elf was supposed to have helped young Harry through the worst of his stay at the Dursleys; to prevent the boy from suffering.

Something had gone wrong though. Kreacher had vanished (the older version had at least) and Harry had been left in a position far worse than he'd originally lived through. "Where did it go wrong? Can this madness ever be fixed?" Trevor asked himself. "Where do we go from here?"

Finding no answers, he tucked the x-ray into the envelope with his letter and placed it back in his pocket. He then turned out all the lights and locked down the office before climbing into his car and heading home. It had been another long day and there looked to be a good hundred more coming in the immediate future.

_May 26, 1985 9:37 AM_

The series of operations performed on Harry were done over a two week period, with the final one being a three hour procedure that orchestrated the removal of well over one hundred shards of glass and the insertion of well over five hundred and fifty sutures; they'd attempted to use staples on some of the larger incisions but Harry's magic (and therefore his skin and underlying tissues) reacted badly to the metal alloys when in place for more than a few minutes, necessitating the need for them to go back and remove the staples so they could be replaced with stitches. That procedure had taken place seven days ago.

In the days immediately following the final surgery, the nurses and doctors had sent him through a second round of tests and scans in order to verify that they hadn't missed any of the critical injuries and that the internal injuries were healing properly. They paid special attention to the healing bone and tissue around the more serious of the skull fractures, sending the boy in for another series of CT scans to check for further hemorrhaging.

Another two days had passed before they allowed visitors back into Harry's rooms. A fact that frustrated Leticia Hall repeatedly during the intervening time while she waited to see 'her boy' as she now thought of Harry. She was far from the only one feeling antsy about being kept away from the boy but she was the most outspoken of the would be visitors.

Trevor Matheson had also been annoyed at being denied entrance, though he had far more practice at hiding his emotions than Leticia; after all, he was twice her age and spent a good portion of the last twenty-two years in front of various juries, judges, and lawyers where masking and controlling his emotions was crucial. That didn't mean he found it any easier to suppress his emotions, just that he could slip on a mask so that the world wouldn't see what he was feeling and thinking.

When the news had come that visits would once more be allowed, Trevor and Leticia both showed up bright and early much to each other's surprise. They exchanged brief, and somewhat stilted, smiles and entered the room together, taking a moment to greet Kingsley Shacklebolt who was one of the two guards currently assigned to escort Harry should he need leave the room for any reason.

Lettie then took a seat beside Harry's bed, gave his hand a pat as she announced that she'd returned and brought out her worn copy of _The Wind in the Willows_, and immediately picked up from where she'd left off the last time she'd been here. While she read, Trevor took a moment to study Harry's appearance. Harry looked both better and worse in some ways, to Trevor's eyes. The child had been shaved bald in preparation for the brain surgery he'd undergone and most of his hair had not yet grown back, unless one counted the soft fuzz of stubble that coated his skull.

His skin was looking much healthier, no longer looking so translucent and pale. The garish sutures that almost seemed to cover him from head to toe were ghastly though, the dark threads standing out vividly against the soft creams of the boy's skin. Some of the gauntness had been filled in as well, as a constant stream of fluids were fed through his IV and coupled with the stream of nutrients provided via a PICC (peripherally inserted central catheter) line helped to counter the effects of the starvation the boy had been made to endure.

It would have been far better if there were fewer wires, hoses, and other attachments secured all over and around his tiny body though. There were the two intravenous lines, the heart monitor, brain wave activity monitor, an oxygen tube connected to his nose, and a urinary catheter. Over all the poor kid looked more like some sort of movie prop for a Frankenstein remake than a living child. As he stood there staring down at Harry, Trevor made a decision. He ran his thumb tenderly down Harry's cheek before turning sharply on his heels and hurrying out of the room without saying a word to anyone else.

Leticia watched him go from the corner of her eye but didn't pause her narrative as she felt her duty was to watch over Harry, not play nursemaid to a man old enough to be her father. She was just finishing chapter four, when a nurse and two male orderlies came in to replace Harry's sheets, change his bandages, and check his vitals. They made only one attempt to kick Lettie out of the room but a sharp glare and stubborn thrust of her chin had them accepting her continued presence, albeit reluctantly and not without a disproving frown sent towards her in return.

Moving back out of the way, Lettie watched as the two men carefully helped the nurse unhook all the various machines before pulling down his sheets and blankets and removing his hospital gown. The nurse then turned her attention to the monitors to chart their various activities while the two orderlies removed the bandages one a time so they could bath the wounds and let them air out for a few minutes before placing a fresh bandages back in their place.

When they finished changing the dressings, they pulled out a clean gown and dressed him back up before the two of them gathered the corners of a thick pad that was underneath Harry and together smoothly lifted him into the air while the nurse quickly removed the soiled bottom sheet and put down a fresh one, adding a new pad on top. Harry was then lowered back into the bed, carefully rolled first one way and than the other to remove the dirty pad, and tucked back into place with fresh clean sheets and blankets while the nurse hooked the machines back into place and checked that they were in working order before the three of them swept out of the room leaving Leticia and Harry with just the Aurors on duty.

"Well, I must say that looked to be quite an adventure," Lettie whispered softly as she opened the book up and settled back down in her chair. "Not a very pleasant one, true, but an adventure all the same. Between you and me though, I'd rather read about adventures happening to someone else than live through them."

She babbled on for a few minutes longer before returning to the story. Neither she, nor the two Aurors, ever noticed the brief flickering of Harry's eyelids or the flash of one green eye as she read about the further adventures of Mr. Toad and his companions. So when a swarm of nurses and doctors swarmed into the room ten minutes later the three of them were quite shocked.

And, against her will, Lettie found her self standing just outside Harry's room after being told point blank, his visiting hours were officially over for the time being. Angry at being shut out, yet again, Leticia stalked over to the nearest payphone inside one of the waiting rooms and rang Trevor's office.

"Thank you for calling the offices of Samson, Matheson, and Carter International," Rebecca's sultry voice announced when the line was picked up. "How may I direct your call?"

"This is Lettie Hall, is Trevor there?"

"I'm afraid he's not, Miss Hall, do you want me to take a message?"

"Not yet, is Mr. Carter or one of the stand-by aurors available?"

"Klouse should be in his office, would you like me to transfer you?"

"Please, it's important!"

"One moment, please."

Leticia impatiently tapped her foot while she listened to the classical music that played in the background while she waited for the wizard lawyer to pick up the line. There was a brief crackle of static and an abrupt greeting, "Klouse here."

"Mr. Carter, it's Lettie, do you know where Trevor is?"

"He headed out this morning to spend the day at the hospital with Harry," Klouse answered after a short pause where Lettie assumed he was checking his notes.

"He got here about the same time I did but then he left almost as soon as he saw Harry and he's not been back since. Do you know how Healer Weber can be contacted?"

"Ms. Hall, Leticia, what's going on? You sound like you're crying?"

"They kicked me out again, Mr. Carter. I've been reading to Harry all morning and shortly after they came in and changed his bandages and sheets, a bunch of doctors and nurses descended on his room and kicked me out. They wouldn't even tell me what was going on! They even kicked out his auror escorts, though all four aurors are still hovering right outside his door. I couldn't think of anyone else to contact…"

"Calm down, Leticia, I'll get Director Bones and Healer Weber to get down there post haste and then track down Trevor and let him know what's going on. I'm sure everything will be fine," Klouse assured her before he said goodbye and hung up to start contacting people.

Ten minutes later Lettie watched as Jake Weber waded into Harry's room while Amelia Bones began briefing the aurors hovering just outside. Drying the last of her tears, Lettie headed towards the nearest chair and settled in for what appeared would be another long vigil. Klouse joined her sometime later, letting her know he'd been unable to find Trevor but that he had people out there looking for him. Together they continued to wait for an update.

Near supper time, Jake found them still waiting.

"We've got good news, Ms. Hall," he announced as he walked in. "Harry's brain activity has shown a dramatic increase for the second time and it appears that he's come out of the coma but remains unconscious and unresponsive."

"Oh, thank heavens, that's wonderful news! Do you have any idea when he might wake up fully?"

"No, but it could be anywhere from a few days to a few weeks," Jake answered. "Ms. Hall, do you mind me asking what you were doing during both of your visits?"

"Just reading out loud to him," Lettie said as she waved the book in her hand. "I'd thought… since he used to come and listen to me at the library… I just needed to feel like I was helping him somehow… and thinking… well, wanting to believe it was my stories he came for, I just read."

"Relax, ma'am," Jake soothed, "you aren't being accused of anything, we were just curious you see. The floor nurse in charge on afternoons in this ward said you were here, with him both times when the increases occurred. So we wanted to know if it was possible that your presence was in a way, pulling him out of the coma and into consciousness. If that is true, and we really have no proof other than the coincidence that you were here both times, then having you continue to spend time with him will be beneficial for his recovery."

Leticia just kind of stared at him blankly, her mind trying to absorb what he was implying.

"He means they'll be more than willing to let you spend more time with Harry, in the hopes you'll work a bit more magic on him with your voice and bring him on back to the world of the living," Klouse supplied. "Consider it a free pass to visit him wherever you want, even, I dare say, outside of the normal visiting hours."

Leticia smiled brightly at the two wizards as tears of relief and joy coursed down her face, before surprising both men with a tight hug each before darting off down the corridor; intent on getting in to see her Harry.

_June 3, 1985 6:54 PM_

Over the previous eight days, Lettie had spent ninety percent of her time at Harry's side. She'd finished reading _The Wind in the Willows_ to him and had moved on to _The Last Unicorn_, by Peter Beagle. The nurses, doctors, and orderlies who steadily streamed through his room were much friendlier towards her than they had previously been, each of them smiling at her in greeting and occasionally sticking around to listen to her reading for a few minutes here and there. One of the orderlies even went so far as to start bringing her a tray of food from the cafeteria every afternoon when she noticed that Leticia rarely left for meals.

Harry still hadn't completely woken up but there were frequent spikes of brain activity during her readings that encouraged her to spend all hours of the day visiting him. The on-duty aurors sometimes teased her that she must be a closet witch, as her daily readings were turning out to be magical. Lettie just laughed it off, as she'd already been tested by at least six different wizards and witches for evidence of a magical core. She was as muggle as they come. Lettie privately thought Harry responded to her voice because he'd loved hearing her read to him; he had spent all those times in the library just listening to her after all (or at least that's what she wanted to believe).

The only down side was that no one had been able to get a hold of Trevor. They knew he was alright, because there was evidence that he visited the office and he'd left a few notes giving out instructions to Rebecca but no one working on Harry's case actually saw him. So it was more than a bit of a shock when a disheveled Trevor trudged into the room looking like he hadn't slept in days; his eyes were all blood shot, his hair mused, and his suit crumpled. He was also beaming brightly. An expression he'd never worn around her before. Sure, he'd give out these small, tight smiles when there was good news but he never radiated joy the way he was right this moment.

"I just heard the wonderful news," Trevor announced, his eyes flashing in Lettie's direction before settling back on Harry's face. "I'm sorry I wasn't here but I've been taking care of a few things."

"We tried to get a hold of you," Leticia murmured quietly, one hand marking her page and the other absently caressing the fingers of Harry's right hand. "Every day for the last eight days, Klouse and I tried to get in touch with you to let you know."

"I really am sorry," Trevor stated matter-of-factly. "I would have loved to have been here with you. There were more important things that I needed to do though."

"What could be more important than Harry's recovery?" Lettie demanded with a frown.

"Tell me, Ms. Hall, do you know who is going to get custody of the child once he gets released? Something that now appears to be attainable at some point down the line, now that he is responding to outside stimuli?"

"Oh dear god," Lettie whispered out, her eyes wide with fear at the sudden implications. For the there were only three possible answers to that question. "He'll be placed in the custody of child welfare and end up with a foster family, placed in an orphanage, or some wise old wizarding fool will abscond with him and secretly put him back into the hands of those horrible Dursleys."

"The answer would be none of the above actually," Trevor assured her as he grinned down at her. "I've been granted custody of Harry on the grounds that I am in a way his nearest living relative not being prosecuted by the state for child abuse. My petition was finally approved this morning, after I spent the last five days proving that I am a) related to him, even if it is just through marriage, b) that I can adequately provide for him, and c) that I had no criminal convictions. The only draw back is that I've had to turn the case over completely to Klouse to prosecute but that will not affect the outcome in the long run. He's just as good at what he does as I am, though he usually only handles the magical side of things. Won't really be an issue though, because I can still help him prepare, I just can't be in charge; conflict of interest and all that."

"That's wonderful!" Lettie gushed as she jumped up and wrapped Trevor in a hug, relieved that her worst fears had been put to rest before they could be fully realized.

* * *

><p>* Rhys ap Gruffydd (1132 – 28 April 1197) was the ruler of the kingdom of South Wales at one point.<p>

**AN:** _And finally we have some good news in there and Harry officially has a new guardian. I know several readers had hoped Leticia would gain custody of him but she really doesn't have the means to care for a child in Harry's condition not to mention she has no true connection to him other than Harry was drawn to her. Never fear, Lettie won't fade away into the background just because she hasn't gained custody of Harry; I had other plans for her. There were also several pieces of information about what was in Trevor's letter from the future. _

_The use of EmAreAye and SeeTee as opposed to MRI and CT (which he's also called a Kitty Scan) were meant to be a quirk of Jake Weber's; not a show of ignorance of muggle technology. There are several OC's in this story whose background, while developed and intimately plotted out on paper, didn't make it into the actual story since while they are integral to the story they are not central figures; if that makes sense. I'm working on turning their back stories into a series of omakes that will be posted at the end of this book as a little something extra for my readers and reviewers. _

_I've got made from scratch cyber brownies for everyone who's left me an encouraging review in light of the few flames I deleted. I'd have shared the S'mores I made from the flames but in my defense I had two vultures circling in the form of my children. =D ~ Jenn_


	7. Reawakening

**Disclaimer: **_All HP characters are the property of JKR, the WB, and respective publishing companies - this is nothing more than a simple FanFiction that I have written. I have made no money from this or any of the other stories I have posted on this or other sites._

**AN:** _Story beta'd by my R/L daughter Sillyhobbit_.

* * *

><p><em><strong><span>Chapter 7: Reawakening<span>**_

_June 3, 1985 8:23 PM_

"I spoke to Klouse before heading over here," Trevor announced out of the blue after they'd been sitting in companionable silence for the last forty-five minutes. "He said you'd quit your job at the library so you could spend more time here, with Harry."

"Yes," Leticia confirmed. "I just couldn't bring myself to read stories to other children while my mind and heart were constantly here with Harry. I loved spending time with the other children; don't get me wrong, it was a lovely way to spend my time but Harry is special. And shelving books or sorting periodicals held no interest for me any longer. It was a great job but it was only ever temporary because what I really want to do is teach."

"Do you have your QTS?"

"No, not yet, I've finished most of my other courses but didn't have the money to take the last few classes I needed."

"Have you considered taking a job as a private tutor?"

"No, not really."

"Let me rephrase that," Trevor stated as he fixed his intense hazel eyes on her. "I'm asking if you would be interested in being a private tutor for Harry. I'll be more than able to offer you competitive wages, living accommodations should you need them, and flexible hours should you desire to attend classes at the same time."

"Why? Why offer me a job when you really don't know me?"

"Two reasons, no three reasons," Trevor replied after a moment's thought. "First, Harry seems to respond to your presence; if the changes in his mental state during your visits are accurate (and from what I've seen I believe they are). Secondly, you are well aware of his situation and have the background knowledge necessary to do a competent job. And thirdly, you have shown a great deal of compassion and concern for Harry even though you were under no such obligation once you alerted us to his condition."

"I… I don't know," Lettie countered timidly. "I'd have to give your offer some serious thought. You brought it up out of the blue and it's not something I can just decide on a whim."

"Not an issue, I can respect the need to weigh the pros and cons of an argument."

"How soon would you need my answer?"

"Not until Harry has been released and even then he'll need ample time to fully recover before he's given any serious studying to do. The last thing I'd want to do is overload him during such a fragile time."

"I'm sure I can give you my answer by then."

"That's all I ask."

They slipped back into silence as they continued to watch over the sleeping boy, both them with their thoughts on what the future might hold for one Harry Potter.

_June 11, 1985 7:00 AM_

Trevor unlocked his office as he flicked on the lights and was more than a touch startled to come face to face with a somewhat irate Amelia Bones sitting behind his desk.

"You've been avoiding me, Matheson," Amelia spat out as she leveled a sharp glare at him. "You tossed me a scrap, created ways to stay out of my sight, and then you vanished completely for well over a week. Where the hell have you been and what the hell kind of dirt do you have on Skeeter?"

Trevor laughed as he finished walking into the office and dropped his briefcase down on his desk, causing Amelia to frown at his abrupt (to her anyway) change of attitude.

"Relax, Amelia," Trevor soothed her as he took a seat on the corner of his desk. "I was not ignoring or avoiding you, I was busy getting custody of our young Mr. Potter through the muggle courts. With a little goblin help, I was able to prove I was distantly related, which I technically am, and managed to push the matter through on a bit of a fast track due to his special circumstances."

"That was rather abrupt, don't you think?"

"No, it was something that had been worrying me since this whole thing blew into our laps back in April. That big uncertainty of where he would end up should he ever recover. Did we lose him to the muggle system? Or did Dumbledore whisk him off and put him back with the ones who harmed him in the first place? Or worse, would your ministry hand him over to the 'reformed' Death Eater with the most money and influence?"

"I see…" Amelia breathed as she sagged visibly.

"Now I need your help."

"With what?"

"Conspiracy," Trevor grinned. "I have been giving this much thought since I made the decision to bring Harry into my care on the muggle side. But no wizard or witch is going to grant me custody on the wizarding side because I am a squib; and let's face it, that would be worse in their eyes than handing him back to the Dursleys. So here's what I came up with…"

By the time Trevor finished explaining his plans, Amelia was laughing uproariously at the pure chaos he was planning on hitting the wizarding world with in short order. She then became quite serious as she shot his plan full of holes and helped him reconstruct a much stronger plan of attack that would stand up in the faces of the Wizengamot and the Minister's closest advisors.

When they finished plotting, Trevor briefed her on the information he had on Rita Skeeter and why his sources couldn't possibly be held up to convict her. She thanked him for the data and wished him luck as she headed to her own office to start the day.

_June 15, 1985 12:01 PM_

"The End," Leticia announced dramatically as she closed the cover of _The Secret Garden_ and sat back with a sigh. "What would you like to listen to next, young man?" She asked somewhat rhetorically as she leaned back and closed her eyes for a brief moment. What happened next startled her enough that she fell out of her chair.

"Dr…dra… dragons…" a very tiny voice croaked, "p...please?"

Climbing to her feet she looked down into Harry's face and saw for the first time, a pair of vibrant green eyes staring back at her with both trepidation and burning desire. Swallowing thickly, Lettie nodded before adding, "Sure, dragons. I can do that for you."

Tears filled the boy's eyes before they closed as the briefest smile flittered across his face before he sank back down into unconsciousness.

"Oh, oh merciful god above," Lettie breathed out as she tore her eyes from Harry's face and met the equally startled gazes of the aurors sitting just across the room. Pulling herself out of her shock, she hissed, "For heaven's sake! Don't just sit there, one of you go get the damned doctor!"

The older of the two men flinched back from the dainty muggle's burning ferocity before climbing to his feet and darting out the door calling for a doctor at the top of his lungs.

Lettie then gathered Harry's tiny hand in hers and whispered reassuringly to him as tears of joy poured down her face. "I don't have a book about dragons with me right now, my sweet Harry, but I will bring one for you later this afternoon. I know just the perfect story. It was written by the same author as _The_ _Wind in the Willows_ and it's called, _The Reluctant Dragon._ I think you'll like it. It's the story of a boy and his dragon. I have to leave soon but don't worry; I will be back. I promise."

The doctors descended on Harry's room at that point like a hurricane on the high seas. Leticia briefly feared that they'd scare the boy but valiantly (if some what reluctantly) shoved her worries to the back of her mind as she hurried from the room and made a bee-line for the nearest phone. After leaving a message for Trevor with the news that Harry had woken up, if only briefly, she hurried out of the hospital with her recently assigned auror bodyguard in tow and caught the bus to the nearest book store.

She headed directly to the children's section and picked up the most recent reprint of _The Reluctant Dragon_ by Kenneth Grahame. On a whim, she searched out a few other books about dragons while she was there and settled on purchasing copies of _Dragons Are Singing Tonight_ by Jack Prelutsky* (a book of poems), _Everyone Knows What a Dragon Looks Like_ by Jay Williams, and _Beware the Dragons!_ by Sarah Wilson as well. She also picked up a book about the real-life dragons found around the world, one that made the auror with her laugh. When she asked him to explain why, he said: "Those are only tiny insignificant reptiles when compared to the true dragons of the world."

If she felt any shock about the revelation that dragons do indeed exist, she hid it well as she contemplated the auror for a moment. Reaching a decision, apparently, she nodded and calmly asked if there were books on dragons available. When he said there were, she made a mental note to have Trevor or Klouse pick up a few since Harry seemed to be interested in the fire-breathing creatures.

Carrying her purchases to the register, she paid for them with her credit card and headed back outside to the bus stop where she waited for the next bus to arrive. Instead of immediately heading back to the hospital though, she exited near a small strip mall and entered a children's store that carried clothes, furniture, and most importantly toys. Browsing through the stuffed animal section, she searched diligently for a stuffed dragon. When she couldn't find one, she reluctantly moved on to where the miniatures were shelved and picked out a set of cast iron figurines that included a dragon, a mounted knight, a wizard holding a crystal topped staff, three rather sad looking pine trees, and a fabricated rock cave for the dragon to sit inside. It was not exactly what she'd been looking for, but she figured it would do once Harry was up and moving.

Before returning to the hospital, the auror talked her into picking up lunch at a nearby cafe in order to avoid having to get something at the hospital's cafeteria. They ordered simple sandwiches to go and ate them while they waited for the bus they needed to catch to get back to the hospital. By the time they made it back up to the floor where Harry's room was, a good three and half hours had passed since Harry had woken up for that brief second.

Leticia reentered the boy's room alone and found Trevor sitting in her usual seat with Klouse, Director Bones, and Healer Weber hovering around the foot of the bed discussing what was currently being considered a major breakthrough by the medical staff in regards to Harry's recovery.

"There you are, Ms. Hall!" Klouse exclaimed as he saw her walk in. "We've been wondering where you disappeared to."

"Did he wake again?" Leticia inquired as she hurried to the bed and set her bags of books and toys down beside the chair. "I went out to purchase a few books. I suppose I could have gone to the library instead but I didn't want to take the chance that the one I wanted wasn't on the shelves. I hadn't meant to be gone so long but the buses don't run according to personal schedules."

"No, he's not woken back up but chances are he will from time to time over the next seventy-two hours," Jake replied in answer to her question. "We don't expect him to fully gain consciousness until sometime after that but it really depends on how much pain the boy is feeling and the stability of his core. Once he does wake for more than a few seconds or minutes here and there, we'll be able to access how complete of a recovering he's going to make."

"That's wonderful news," Lettie gushed as she ran her fingers over the back of Harry's hand. "Did you hear that, Harry? Pretty soon you'll be able to see the pictures and read the stories with me, instead of just listening. Would you like that? To see the pictures of the dragons that are in the books I brought for you?"

Healer Weber, Klouse, and Madam Bones seemed a bit taken aback at the way Leticia spoke to Harry, especially knowing that she knew that he was still technically unconscious. It seemed odd, to them, to expect the boy to not only hear her questions and chatter but to actually speak to him as if she expected a reply. It was madness in their eyes and experience. So when the raspy voice replied to her they were just as shocked as Lettie and the aurors had been earlier when he'd replied to her question.

"Yeeessss."

Lettie beamed and leaned down to instinctively brush a tender kiss across his forehead while she fought back the tears of joy she felt burning in her eyes. "Then that is just what we will do."

Harry simply nodded without opening his eyes, his breathing slowing slightly as he retreated back into his mind.

"Sweet Merlin," Amelia gasped. "I've never seen anything like it. If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes… Why do you think he responds to her like that? Especially considering he's not shown any sign of consciousness in response to the doctors or nurses questions?"

"He recognizes her voice," Trevor concluded as he sat watching Leticia thoughtfully. "He knows her on some level, through the short visits when he'd listen to her read stories. It's the only answer that makes any sense."

"It's possible," Jake agreed. "We'll have to monitor his reactions to her presence. Could mean that he will come around far sooner than expected, but we won't know until he actually wakes up."

_June 17, 1985 10:15 AM_

While Leticia was at the hospital reading the last few pages of a story about a dragon and a boy to young Harry; Trevor and Klouse were standing in front of the full Wizengamot.

"Please state your business," Chief Warlock Dumbledore requested in a bored sort of tone, his grandfatherly persona exuding worn patience as he twinkled his eyes halfheartedly at the two men standing before the court.

"The Law offices of Samson, Matheson, and Carter International, are petitioning the courts on behalf of Harry James Potter, a minor, in all matters of Potter versus Dursley. The Petition reads…"

"Stop right there Mr. Carter," Dumbledore roared as he rose from his seat in shock. "Mr. Potter is a ward of this court and all matters pertaining to his person, and his family, were sealed from public viewing and hearing. This matter will be dropped and an investigation launched into your breach of security!"

"Objection!" Amelia cried from her seat. "There was never a formal hearing regarding the awarding of the guardianship of one Harry James Potter to the courts."

"Objection overruled!" Dumbledore practically screamed as he glared at Amelia.

"As a member of the Wizengamot I demand that the proper procedures are followed as required," Augusta Longbottom interjected as she in turn stared down Dumbledore. "Due to the lack of a custodial hearing in front of the full Wizengamot upon the tragic deaths of James and Lily Potter on October thirty-first, nineteen-eighty-one you have no basis to seal the records of their heir and son. I for one second Madam Bones' objection and put forward the motion that Mr. Carter be given the opportunity to present his petition on behalf of Mr. Potter."

"I second the motion," Tiberius Ogden called out from beside Madam Longbottom.

Dumbledore sat back down angrily as several other voices called out support of the motion (leaving him no choice but to allow the wizard lawyer to proceed); his glare bouncing from the two lawyers, the Director of Magical Law Enforcement, Madam Longbottom, and Tiberius Ogden.

"Please continue, Mr. Carter," Amelia implored calmly from her seat.

"Thank you," Klouse returned as he bowed slightly towards her and the rest of the Wizengamot. "The petition reads as follows: On behalf of the plaintiff, Harry James Potter, the Law Offices of Samson, Matheson, and Carter International do hereby charge the defendants, Vernon and Petunia Dursley, with the following charges in regards to the plaintiff's treatment at the hands of the defendants while the plaintiff was in the custody of said defendants…"

"Forty-one counts of gross negligence; the failure to provide proper care and housing while in the custody of the defendants – one count for each month the plaintiff lived in the custody of the defendants. Forty-one counts of criminal negligence; for failure to provide reasonable care and thus putting the plaintiff at risk of injury or death – one count for each month the plaintiff lived in the custody of the defendants. Two suspected counts of child cruelty that resulted in a life threatening injury. Seven suspected counts of child cruelty that resulted in a debilitating injury. Nine counts of criminal negligence; for failure to provide adequate medical care for life threatening injuries and/or debilitating injuries Mr. Potter sustained while in the care of the defendants. Forty-one counts of negligence; failure to notify the proper authorities of the change of custodianship of the plaintiff – one count for each month the plaintiff lived in the care of the defendants."

"Evidence in support of the above accusations will be provided to the courts in due process when the case of Potter versus Dursley is scheduled to go to trial. On behalf of the plaintiff we are asking that the defendants be held responsible for their actions and mistreatment of the plaintiff."

"Is that all, Mr. Carter?" Dumbledore demanded quite rudely, the usually tranquil wizard visibly seething.

"As a matter of fact, Chief Warlock, no it is not," Klouse replied cheekily back as he pulled out a second petition. "The Law offices of Samson, Matheson, and Carter International, are petitioning the courts on behalf of Harry James Potter, a minor, in all matters of Potter versus Dumbledore. The Petition reads as follows…"

Dumbledore was too shocked to interrupt as the charges against him were listed off. The rest of the wizards and witches sitting on the Wizengamot benches appeared to be in a similar state as well, with the exception of a selected few; such as Amelia Bones, Augusta Longbottom, Lucius Malfoy, Cornelius Fudge, and Delores Umbridge.

"On behalf of the plaintiff, Harry James Potter, the Law Offices of Samson, Matheson, and Carter International do hereby charge the defendant, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, with the following charges in regards to the plaintiff's placement with the Dursleys, against the explicit wishes of the late James and Lily Potter as spelled out in the last will and testament of James and Lily Potter… Forty-one counts of gross negligence; for the defendant's placement of the plaintiff in the custody of the Dursleys against the last wishes of the plaintiff's biological mother and father upon their deaths – one count for each month the plaintiff lived in neglect at the hands of the Dursleys."

"Forty-one counts of criminal negligence; for the defendant's failure to ensure the plaintiff was being provided reasonable and adequate care at the hands of the family the defendant chose to entrust with the plaintiff's care, and thus putting the plaintiff at risk of injury or death – one count for each month the plaintiff lived in neglect at the hands of the Dursleys. Forty-one counts of negligence; for failure to notify the proper authorities of the change of custodianship of the plaintiff – one count for each month the plaintiff lived in neglect at the hands of the Dursleys. And finally, eight counts of criminal negligence for the placement of unauthorized wards; two of which were placed directly upon the plaintiff (one of which was directly siphoning power from the plaintiff's magical core into an unknown or unlisted ward of dubious nature) in addition to the four unregistered wards surrounding the property of Petunia and Vernon Dursley that resulted in the plaintiff's on-going suffering from being monitored or noticed by both the magical and muggle communities."

"Evidence in support of the above accusations will be provided to the courts in due process when the case of The People versus Dumbledore is scheduled to go to trial. On behalf of the plaintiff we are asking that the defendant be held responsible for his actions that were directly responsible for the mistreatment of the plaintiff received at the hands of the Dursleys."

"And lastly, The Law offices of Samson, Matheson, and Carter International, are petitioning the courts on behalf of Harry James Potter, a minor, in all matters of Potter versus the Wizengamot." There were more than a few grumbles from the members of the Wizengamot but no one voiced a protest as Klouse pulled out a third and final roll of parchment and read it to the court. "The Petition reads as follows…"

"On behalf of the plaintiff, Harry James Potter, the Law Offices of Samson, Matheson, and Carter International do hereby petition the collective body of the Wizengamot to grant legal and physical emancipation to the plaintiff in accordance with the Rights of Ascension as ratified in the Goblin Treaty in the year sixteen-eighteen and as permitted by the Pureblood Preservation Pact of seventeen-sixty-three."

When the shocked murmuring and outraged cries finally died down, Klouse addressed the Wizengamot one last time. "The petitions of Potter versus Dursley, Potter versus Dumbledore, and Potter versus the Wizengamot have been presented before the complete body of the Wizengamot as decreed by the Law. The Law offices of Samson, Matheson, and Carter International would hear the ruling over the petitions on behalf of their client, Harry James Potter (a minor) on whether the petitions will be given due consideration by the body of the Wizengamot in the form of a trial."

The infighting between the members of the Wizengamot that broke out at that moment would later be recorded as one of the most violent sessions in the history of the Wizengamot. Dumbledore attempted to restore order and declare all three petitions as frivolous but he was bombarded on all sides by several of the more outraged members of the Wizengamot, including Amelia Bones, Augusta Longbottom, Griselda Marchbanks, and Tiberius Ogden. On the other side, he was being hounded by an irate and highly embarrassed Cornelius Fudge who was demanding to know what was going on and why they were just now hearing about the difficulties of The-Boy-Who-Lived.

In the end, all three petitions would be scheduled to go to trial a week later and the current session of the Wizengamot ended on a chaotic note. Dumbledore attempted to waylay Klouse and Trevor on their way out but the pair slipped through the doors before he could reach them. Dumbledore raged ineffectively for several minutes before he sent out urgent notes to a few select members of his former Order of the Phoenix to meet him at Hogwarts immediately.

* * *

><p>Trevor stepped out of the fireplace and dusted off the ashes that clung to his suit. He hated traveling by Floo; it was such a messy, not to mention one of the most nauseating, methods of wizarding travel available. However, he freely admitted it was easier and faster than trying to drive to the ministry and reluctantly used it to his advantage when he had to make appearances in the wizarding world. That didn't mean he liked it though.<p>

Checking to be sure he'd cleared off the last of the ashes; he stepped out of the Floo Room and into the main lobby where he immediately took note of the presence of several reporters of the magical persuasion; including the presence of one highly unethical Rita Skeeter. Sighing internally, he squared his shoulders and marched into the bedlam where his secretary, Rebecca, was trying to restore order.

"We demand to speak with Mr. Carter in regards to the whereabouts of Harry Potter."

"The public has the right to know what is going on, you've no right to hide Harry Potter from the press!"

"Harry Potter is an icon in the Wizarding world; we demand you allow us access to him immediately!"

"You are standing in the highly public office of a muggle law firm and you are all willfully and ignorantly breaking the Statute of Secrecy by speaking of the wizarding world in front of one or more muggle witnesses who may or may not have knowledge of the magical world," Trevor cited with authority as he stepped in front of Rebecca to protect her from the overly eager reporters. "You have exactly two minutes to leave these premises before I contact the aurors and have you arrested for trespassing and attempting to cause mass panic and hysteria after foolishly spreading word of the existence of magicals in the presence of muggles. Is that clear?"

"We aren't finished here," Rita began as she glared at Trevor over her glasses; she'd never gotten along with the squib lawyer and took great joy in cutting him down whenever the opportunity presented itself (which was very rarely as the man in question rarely entered her domain within the wizarding world and had a squeaky clean reputation).

"I believe you are, Ms. Skeeter," Amelia Bones countered as she stepped out of the Floo room with Klouse and several aurors on her heels. "Unless you'd like to be taken in for questioning in regards to breaking the Statute? No? Than I suggest you leave immediately."

"Thanks, Mr. Matheson," Rebecca said quietly as she righted her chair and cleaned up the mess that had been made of her desk during the ruckus with the reporters.

"You're welcome, Bec, I only wish I'd gotten here before they arrived. Bloody gossips move faster than the speed of sound, I swear. Klouse, can you put in a request with Backbiter to have our wards upgraded to include an anti-animagus ward? Our security of these offices will be questionable from here on out, so we'd best be on our toes."

"When do you want to schedule the press conference to appease the vultures?"

"Tomorrow at the earliest but I'd prefer to wait until at least Friday. That's the day the Dursley's are scheduled to appear before the Muggle courts. Have it scheduled for, say, five in the evening on the steps of Gringotts so we'll get public participation and tell each of the attending reporters to submit their questions no later than Wednesday so we can screen them before hand. This will help us prevent those like Rita from carrying the questioning in a direction we want to avoid."

"That should work," Amelia agreed. "Though it will give Albus the opportunity to give his own statement first and possibly send out his people to hunt for Harry again. He was quite irate when you left before he could personally speak to you two."

"That works in our favor though," Trevor countered. "Because it will soon be public knowledge that Dumbledore is facing charges. Anything he says can later be used against him during his trial; especially if he tells lies to the media. As for his people finding Harry, that is a concern, which was one of the reasons we waited so long to file our petitions with the Wizengamot. Our hands are tied though, because Harry can't be safely moved until well after his birthday, when he is released from the hospital. We could probably hustle him to a safe house in the event of an emergency but I'd rather not risk him being re-injured unless we have no other alternatives. Backbiter mentioned opening up one of the Potter properties for us to use once he's out but that will only work if Harry is emancipated; due to the stipulations in James and Lily's Will."

"And there's no point in increasing the auror detail assigned to the hospital; it would just draw their attention that much sooner," Klouse pointed out.

"True. The only real person I'd be concerned about siding against us is Alastor Moody anyway," Amelia admitted. "He's the only one with enough experience and access to figure out where the extra resources are being sent. Thankfully he's officially retired; otherwise he'd have been onto us before now."

"You think we could sway him to our side before he throws his lot in with Dumbledore?"

"It's hard to say, really, especially considering how long Moody has been friends with Albus. How would we convince him?"

"How about giving him a personal tour of a few of the memories we collected from the day we rescued Harry," Trevor suggested softly. "You'd just have to find a way to prove you weren't trying to kill him first."

"That might work… I'll go see him tonight after he's done with Dumbledore since chances are high that Dumbledore is holding a meeting out at the castle as we speak."

"I don't doubt it," Trevor stated tiredly as he ran a hand over his face.

They spent a few minutes more talking about the planned press conference and the four cases (both muggle and magical) before going their separate ways; Amelia carrying a box of memories copied from the evidence box that Trevor kept locked in the firm's safe. Trevor waited for Klouse to send off a message to Backbiter before asking his wizarding partner to apparate him to a protected point near the hospital so he could get an update on Harry's condition while avoiding any chances of being followed by any of the reporters he was sure were hovering around the building in the hopes of being led right to Harry.

_June 17, 1985 3:25 PM_

Leticia sat dozing lightly in the chair beside Harry's bed, her hand resting over top of his through the bars of the security rail of the hospital gurney. Trevor paused in the door to take in the scene for a moment and felt his heart constrict a bit when he was once more reminded vividly of his young wife. Shaking the old memories away, he moved around to the other side of the bed and reached over to tenderly brush his fingers through the still short hair covering Harry's head.

He froze a few minutes later, with his fingers still buried in the boy's barely grown tresses, when he caught sight of frightened green eyes staring up at him. Swallowing thickly, Trevor slowly withdrew his hand, letting his fingers brush down Harry cheek while he gave the boy a small welcoming smile and greeted him softly, "Hello, son." Harry's eyes widened in shock before they began to flick nervously back and forth, searching for something.

"Shh, shh, shh," Trevor soothed calmly as he once more placed his hand on Harry's head. "No one will hurt you here. You are safe."

On the other side, Leticia woke up to the sound of Trevor's voice and it took her a moment to realize he was talking to Harry. When she did, she immediately noticed that the boy was awake once again and searching the room with frantic eyes; the young boy clearly on the verge of panicking. Hoping to calm the boy's fears, Leticia began rubbing her thumb tenderly over the back of Harry's hand; something she had done often during her time spent by his side. Green eyes flicked in her direction briefly before turning back to watch Trevor and he whimpered softly as tears trickled from the corner of his eyes, though it was unclear if they were tears of fright or pain.

They were still sitting there like that when the nurse on duty entered to record his afternoon vitals.

* * *

><p>The boy had been floating in the darkness for as long as he could remember. He liked the darkness. There was no pain in the darkness, no chores, and no Uncle Vernon. He would gladly stay forever in the comforting darkness if not for the fact that he was lonely.<p>

He didn't know he was lonely, not exactly, for he didn't properly remember what it was like to not be alone. Yet there was a part of him that longed for something, some intangible someone that would fill the darkness with something more. He was wondering what that feeling of wanting could mean when he first heard the voice again. She sounded as beautiful as he remembered and he tried to find her in the darkness. He called out to her but his voice didn't want to work. Then she was gone again and the darkness didn't seem so friendly or safe anymore.

He feared the voice would never return and he curled up within himself to hide from the darkness that he now feared. Then all at once the voice was back again, once more whispering stories of talking toads. Joy filled the boy. He hurried towards the voice only for it to vanish once again before he could find her. This time, instead of retreating and hiding in fear of the renewed emptiness of the dark, he hovered impatiently as he longed to hear the voice again. Desperately wanting, and needing, to believe that she was looking for him.

He was right. She spoke to him. As he had long dreamed, she read her stories just for him and for a while he was content just to listen to the sound of her voice. Each time she vanished, he grew sad. He didn't like being alone in the dark anymore. He wanted to listen to her stories all the time, not just some of the time. So, each time she returned he hunted for her, following the music that was her voice as she spoke of unicorns and magicians now. When she moved on to hidden gardens and stubborn little girls, he felt he was closer than ever to finding her. It gave him renewed hope to feel her so close. She almost never left his side now or so he sensed through the darkness.

Then came the day when she asked him what kind of story he wanted to hear next. It was like she had opened a door into the light and invited him to join her. So he answered her. _Dragons, please_. And she heard him! She promised there would be dragons! His heart filled to the bursting as he abruptly sank back into the darkness but for once he didn't care. His voice, his angel, heard him speak. He was not alone anymore.

Soon strange voices invaded his darkness as he waited for his pretty angel to come back to him. The voices wanted things from him but they frightened him. He didn't know any of these voices, so he fled deeper into the darkness once more. He would have stayed there too, if not for the return of his angel once more.

She represented comfort and safety so he hovered closer to where she'd opened the door for him. Then she opened the door a little wider as she asked him if he'd like to see the pictures in the books and read them with her. Desire welled up inside him; he was being offered a special treat. She wanted to share more than just the words of her stories with him. And so he answered with an eager, _Yes!_ Again she heard him and promised it would be so.

Now, as she told the story of the boy and his dragon friend, he stood on the edge of the darkness. He could feel her touches sometimes but he shied away from them for when they came they brought the pain. Not that her touches hurt, just that when she touched him it allowed old remembered pains to flood back into existence. So he hung back in the darkness, afraid of the pain while at the same time longing to join her so he could see the promised pictures.

He had been standing right at the door out of the darkness when he felt someone running fingers through his hair. It was a startling feeling, one he didn't remember ever feeling before. It felt… nice. Curious, wondering if it was his angel, he opened the door on his own and stepped out to find a fairly older looking man standing over him.

He became frightened, unsure of where he was and who was in the room with him. The man stopped what he was doing and then spoke to him. Called him, _son_. Remembered rules (long ingrained into his mind by the Dursleys came rushing back when he realized he was not only out of his cupboard but out where he could be seen by other people) had him searching in fear for the presence of his aunt or uncle. His attention was brought back to the man standing over him when he felt the man running fingers through his hair once more and offering him words of comfort.

"_Shh, shh, shh, no one will hurt you here. You are safe."_

He looked back to the man and saw no sign of anger in his eyes. It was confusing to the boy and he couldn't help the fearful whimpers that slipped out as he waited for the spankings or the yelling about broken rules. Before he could flee back into the safety of the darkness, he felt a touch on his hand and he looked over to find the pretty lady from the library (the voice of his angel) sitting beside him. His whimpers softly faded away as he turned to watch the man above him once more, curious as to who he was and why he was here with him.

_No one has ever smiled at me that way before_, the boy thought to himself. _Why would he smile at a freak like me? Doesn't he know I'm just a no good freak?_

The boy was startled out of his thoughts by the arrival of a strange woman in a funny uniform complete with a funny little hat on her head. She smiled at him too. His breath hitched as he became frightened once more; there were too many people standing over him. Too many strangers and his fear of Uncle Vernon's and Aunt Petunia's anger over the broken rules grew.

"It's all right, Harry," the angel told him. "Don't be afraid, Nurse Penny is just here to check on you. She won't hurt you."

"We'll be right here with you the whole time," the smiling man added, his hand still rubbing the top of the boy's head.

"That's right, Harry," the lady in the funny hat added, who must be Nurse Penny. "I just want to see the numbers on the machines and see how fast your heart is beating. It will only take a minute."

The boy didn't take his eyes off the nurse, following her every move as she fiddled with the various machines sitting around his bed. As he watched he noticed the wires coming out of the machine and tried to see where they led to. When he noticed most of them were attached to his body, he began freaking out a bit. He'd never had wires and tubes poked into him before (having never been taken to a hospital before) and he didn't understand why they were there.

"Harry," the man called. "Harry, shh, please don't panic… you'll be fine. Shh, son, I need you to relax and take deep breaths. There you go, that's it. Just relax. They are just wires, they won't hurt you. They are helping you."

The boy allowed himself to be calmed, his mind focusing more on the name everyone kept calling him so he didn't have to think about the machines that were attached to the wires that were all over his body. It was the same name the weird creature had called him a long time ago. He didn't have a name though. He wasn't allowed to have a name. Maybe these people didn't know that; maybe he had to tell them the rules.

"Nnnot, Haarrryy," he rasped once he made up his mind. "Free… freeaak… freaks d…don… don't have naammess."

His angel gasped and covered her mouth with her hands while she began to cry. The boy didn't understand why she was upset; maybe she was ashamed to be near him now that she knew. The man on the other hand just closed his eyes for just a minute before opening again. This time the boy could see the anger in them and he shrank away, knowing he was in trouble now because freaks were always in trouble for just being freaks.

"No," the man spoke, "that is not true, son, you have a name. Your name is Harry. Harry James Potter. And you are not a freak. You are a little boy. A wonderful little boy named Harry."

The boy, who could not think of himself as Harry, fled back into the darkness in confusion.

* * *

><p>"How could they do such a thing," Lettie whispered through her tears. "To take his name from him? After everything else they'd done, they had to take his name too? How could they be so cruel to such a small child?"<p>

Trevor didn't reply. He had no answers, only questions of his own. He left his hand buried in the stubble of Harry's hair and stared off to the side while the nurse quietly finished her duties and rushed off to inform the doctor that the child had woken once more and appeared to have been fairly lucid for the few minutes he was awake before falling back into unconsciousness.

The silence extended long into the night with both Trevor and Leticia remaining by Harry's side after one of the four auror guards was sent along to the office with an update. During that time Lettie cried off and on, her heart breaking for the tiny boy she'd come to adore over the last several weeks. She thought hard about everything she knew about the child. What little they knew he had lived through, what he would have to endure over the next several months while he recovered, and what other horrible revelations the boy would reveal to them in time. By midnight that night, she came to a decision regarding the part she wanted to have in Harry's life.

"Trevor?"

"Yes, Ms. Hall?"

"If you're still looking for a tutor, I'd like to apply for the position."

Trevor stared at her for several long minutes, as if trying to remember when he'd offered her the position. Eventually he closed his eyes and sat down on the foot of Harry's bed and took a deep breath before giving her an answer.

"Before you accept, there are some things you need to know. When I first offered you the job, I wasn't thinking things through all the way and it is important that you are aware of certain things. We can't speak here though; it's too public a place to discuss what you need to know."

"Where then?"

"Normally, I'd say my office but security was breached by reporters earlier. I can't guarantee we wouldn't be overheard. Let me see if I can find… Will you be staying the night here?"

"I… I guess… I haven't really been home. Not for a few days. How long do you think it will take?"

"Hopefully not long at all, just give me a few hours."

Leticia nodded and watched as Trevor left the room.

_June 18, 1985 7:00 PM_

Klouse entered Harry's room and quietly asked the aurors to seal the door and put up a temporary Muggle Repelling Ward. While they were doing that, he lifted a miniature box out of his pocket and used his wand to bring it back up to full size.

Lettie watched him groggily from where she sat leaning against Harry's bed, wondering what was going on but too tired to voice her questions. He'd just began setting empty vials on one of the portable trays used by the hospital staff for patient meals when Healer Weber slipped into the room and began detaching the various machines hooked up to Harry. That got Lettie's attention really quickly and she sat up to ask what was going on when she felt someone put a hand on her shoulder. Turning, she found Kingsley Shacklebolt standing behind her looking grim.

"Please listen, we don't have much time. Harry's location has been compromised and we need to get him out of here. For your protection, we are sending you with him. If there is anything you need from your home, please make a quick list as everything else will be packed up and put into storage for you."

"I don't understand… Trevor…"

"Is missing. We'll explain everything as soon as we can, in the mean time; please help us prepare the boy for transportation."

Lettie nodded and after quickly scrawling down a few things she knew she'd need on a piece of parchment, she was directed to quickly gather up anything in the room that was in any way connected to Harry. This included his charts, cards from well wishers, the books she'd purchased for him, the ratty clothes he was wearing when he was admitted, and several other random items around the room. These were all quickly shrunk down and placed in the box Klouse had brought. She was then instructed to climb into the bed and lay down beside Harry. Once in place, Healer Weber draped several thick blankets over top of the both of them and secured them in place with velcro straps and temporary sticking charms.

"Close your eyes and try not to put too much weight on Harry but hold onto him so he stays in one relative position," Jake instructed once he was sure they were secure.

The last thing Leticia saw as she placed an arm over Harry was the healer attaching what looked like a rock to the rail of the bed and tap his wand against the object before she closed her eyes and felt the world spin out of control. The landing, when it came, was more than just a touch rough. If not for the straps holding her and the boy in place, she was sure they would have flown out. As it was, the gurney ended up on its side in a darkened room that appeared to be made of solid stone.

Groaning in pain, for she'd hit her head more than once against the rails on the bed, she did her best to hold still as she could feel Harry's tiny body pressing against hers. Thankfully, she'd ended up on the side closest to the floor instead of the other way around. The sound of stone scraping against stone could be heard as a rush of torches lit up the room where they'd landed.

As Lettie turned her head, she saw a group of Goblins marching into the room followed several minutes later by Klouse and Jake. Jake cursed when he caught sight of the gurney lying on its side and quickly rushed forward to right it. The healer then quickly removed the straps and blankets in order to examine Harry while Klouse helped her down from the bed and led her to a stone bench and ordered her to sit.

Pressing a hand against her aching skull she squinted in the poor light of the burning torches and tried to make out the room in which she sat. At first glance, it appeared to be more of a dungeon cell than an actual room. A second glance didn't alter the appearance one bit. Frightened now, Lettie tried standing up only to feel a wave of dizziness pass through her.

"Whoa there, not so fast," Klouse instructed as he helped her to sit back down. "Relax. You have a nasty bruise on the side of your head. Jake will take a look at it when he's finished checking over Harry to make sure he didn't sustain any new injuries or aggravate his old ones during the portkey."

"Why are we in a dungeon?" Lettie demanded as she leaned back against the wall.

"Dungeons have chains," Backbiter growled out as he stepped into the room and barked orders in gobbledygook at the other goblins. "This is a guest room deep in the bowels of Gringotts and a part of my home. I am flattered that you found it inhospitable enough to be called a dungeon. Most flattered."

Lettie could only gape uncomprehendingly at the goblin as he flashed a grin at her then promptly ignored her as he directed the goblins in setting up various articles of both stone and wooden furniture around the room.

"Don't let the goblins' humor bother you, Ms. Hall," Klouse warned kindly. "It will drive you spare trying to figure out if they are serious or not."

"They are a strange bunch, Backbiter's clan most especially," Jake added as he approached Lettie and ran his wand over the side of her head. "Just a bit of bruising, nothing serious, I'll have you right as rain in a few moments."

"Harry…?"

"He's fine, a few new bruises, but overall just fine. Well as fine as he was when you left."

"And Trevor?"

"Amelia and Kingsley are searching for him now. When did you last see him?"

"Around midnight last night, we were discussing Harry's education (Trevor had asked if I'd tutor him once he was released) and he'd gone all weird on me saying I didn't know enough to accept and said he couldn't discuss it while we were at the hospital. He said to give him a few hours to find a place we could talk and then he left."

"He came here first," Backbiter added as he joined them once more. "We arranged for him to use one of the conference rooms above ground. That was about two. He did not linger after that. He did mention picking up something from his home and stopping by the office before returning to the hospital but I have no other information than that."

At that moment Kingsley was shown in carrying a box under one arm. "Here are the copies of the memories of each nurse, orderly, or doctor that came into contact with Harry. They've been Obliviated and all the records pulled. I saw Elphias Doge entering the hospital as I left, so that means Dumbledore's group is involved at some level."

"Shite on a hippogriff," Klouse cursed. "That's bad. The office was ransacked just before dawn; I had felt the ward alarms go off from home. By the time I got there, whoever it was had already left. They trashed my office, Trevor's office, and the lobby, taking several case files and the dummy evidence files I was keeping in my office. Unfortunately, that means whoever it was will now have your name," this was directed towards Lettie, "and Harry's location. I don't know if Trevor had any of the paperwork regarding his custody awarding of Harry sitting out in his office or not. If he did, they probably have that now too."

"What do we do now?"

"We sit tight and wait," Klouse replied with a sigh.

"I've got to go; Amelia has requested I put in an appearance at Hogwarts to see if Dumbledore was involved in Trevor's disappearance," Kingsley informed them before heading out the door.

"What if Trevor is just fine? Will he know to come here?" Lettie inquired after a few minutes.

"Yes, he made arrangements with me to use this room in the event of an emergency shortly after we removed Mr. Potter from his home," Backbiter stated with a shrug.

"Oh."

When it became apparent that there was nothing else to say, Leticia made her way over to Harry's bed and sat down in one of the chairs that had been brought in. After a while, she dug out the book of poems about dragons and began reading some of the poems softly to Harry, trying to focus her attention on something other than the missing Trevor.

* * *

><p>* QTS - Qualified Teacher Status (teaching credentials equivalent I believe but am not one hundred percent sure, as I was not born in England.)<p>

* Dragons Are Singing Tonight by Jack Prelutsky. Was originally published in 1993, I'm using creative licensing to have it make an appearance in my story at an earlier time, because it fit in where I needed it.

**AN:** _There was something profound I was going to say here but my brain is fried. For those of you who are reading Wizard's World I apologize for not getting the chapter up yesterday, I had a migraine that took me out early yesterday morning and I didn't get up until a couple of hours ago. Migraines = no fun. I'll be updating Wizard's World later this morning once I get the children out the door; I just have to upload and format the chapter. ~ Jenn  
><em>


	8. Calculating the Domino Effect

**Disclaimer: **_All HP characters are the property of JKR, the WB, and respective publishing companies - this is nothing more than a simple FanFiction that I have written. I have made no money from this or any of the other stories I have posted on this or other sites._

**AN:** _Story beta'd by my R/L daughter Sillyhobbit_.

* * *

><p><em><strong><span>Chapter 8: Calculating the Domino Effect<span>**_

_June 20, 1985 5:43 AM_

Two days had passed since the wild evacuation had taken place and Trevor still had not been found. Lettie had spent much of the time reading stories to a sleeping Harry, for the boy had not woken once since he'd been moved. This morning, as Lettie dozed fitfully beside his bed, Harry began whimpering in fear and pain. The sound drew the attention of nearly everyone in the room, barring the goblins that visited quite often with news and supplies. Lettie quickly took his tiny hand in hers and tried soothing him.

"Shh, shh, shh, it's alright darling," Leticia whispered softly. "You aren't alone."

"Darrrr," Harry cracked before he started coughing.

"Take a sip of this, kiddo," Jake instructed has he stepped up on the other side of the bed and held a straw to the boy's mouth. "It will help your throat feel better."

Harry tentatively sipped. His eyes seemed to fly open in shock the moment he tasted the drink.

"Tasty?" Jake asked knowingly. "Now, what is it you were trying to tell us?"

"Darrk," Harry drawled carefully, "hurtss."

"Here, take another drink, it will help make the pain go away. I'll see if we can get some more light over here for you in a bit. Ms. Hall, offer him a sip of this any time he indicates the pain comes back."

Leticia accepted the heavy vial with the glass straw curiously as it appeared to hold nothing but water. "What is it, exactly?"

"Combination nutrient and pain killing potion, developed specifically in mind for young children who were severely injured and unable to handle the higher magical potions that taste fairly vile."

"No such thing as magic," Harry insisted dully from between them.

"Of course there is, Harry!" Jake countered somewhat surprised. "Would you like me to show you?"

"No."

"Oh, well, then you'll have to close your eyes because I need to clean your sheets."

Jake waited until Harry had firmly closed his eyes and than levitated the boy into the air about a foot. The tiny boy's eyes flew open in shock once more for a second before he squeezed them tightly shut while fisting his hands in his hospital gown. Jake chuckled softly as he flicked his wand to clean the sheets with a quick spell before gently placing the boy back on the bed.

"All done," the healer announced as he began checking the many bandages that covered the boy. "I think we can take out your stitches now too, as everything seems to be healing quite nicely."

"Stit… stitches?" Harry asked as he carefully peeked out of one eye to stare at the healer in disbelief.

"Yes, stitches. Tiny bits of special thread that holds big cuts closed so they heal. The doctors had to make several cuts to get out the glass that was under your skin. They used the stitches to hold the incisions closed after the finished so your skin would heal properly."

"Oh."

"I'll be using more magic to take them out, would you like to watch this time?"

Harry opened his other eye and tentatively nodded. Jake grinned and lifted Harry's left hand in his, turning it gently so the boy could see the long line of stitches across the palm of his hand. Harry frowned at the sight but didn't say anything. Jake then placed the tip of his wand against the first stitch in the row and whispered, "_Evanesco_" while tapping his wand gently. Harry gasped when the stitch melted out of sight.

"See, magic," Jake said as he continued to tap each stitch in the row.

Harry avidly watched the healer vanish as many of the stitches he could see from his prone position. Jake holding his arms and legs up to make it easier when possible. By the time the last stitch was removed, vanished from the incision sight on the back of his head, Harry was just beginning to accept that magic might actually be real. This confused the small boy, making him wonder why his aunt and uncle would tell him lies or if he was just dreaming freaky things again. He wanted to ask them but feared he'd asked too many questions already and he was feeling more than a little tired after watching the healer work on him for so long. In the end, he slipped back into his dreams before he could make up his mind.

"Using magic on him won't hurt him now?" Lettie asked after Jake had finished removing the stitches.

"No, it will still interfere with his somewhat wild magic but it is no longer causing the severe disruption that it did previously. I scanned him carefully right after we arrived so I could make arrangements to obtain muggle medical supplies should we need them. From here on out we'll be able to use limited amount of magic, which means his recovery time should be cut in half. He still has a long way to go though."

"Is that why you removed the IV and PICC lines?"

"Yes, they were cumbersome and far more invasive than I truly felt comfortable with. It is barbaric, from a wizarding standpoint, to cut into the human body. As a healer, I understand the need for muggles to treat injuries the way they do but most other wizards would be sickened by such a sight. Another reason we wanted to keep young Harry tucked away out of sight. Riots would have broken out because the general wizarding public wouldn't have understood. Only those of us in constant contact with the muggle world know the truth in cases like these. The rest of the population chooses to hide their heads in the sand and shun what they can't understand."

Any reply Leticia was going to make was cut off abruptly when the stone door to the room slammed open and six goblins dragged in a slightly battered and beaten Trevor Matheson. Jake was at the squib's side running his wand up and down Trevor's frame before Lettie could fully register what was happening.

"How bad is he?" Klouse asked as he joined the healer.

"Not too bad, he's lost a bit of blood, has several bruises, and is suffering from dehydration but he'll be fine by tomorrow without a doubt. He should wake up in short order too. Let's get him onto one of the benches."

The two men carefully levitated the older man onto the nearest stone bench. Klouse covered him with a blanket while Jake healed him with a few spells before sitting him up and pouring a thickish red potion down the unconscious man's throat.

"Where did they find him?" Lettie asked as she approached the three men.

"We didn't find him," Backbiter clarified as he swept into the room looking fairly irate. "He found us. Stirred up quite the hornet's nest he did, when he Portkeyed onto one of the main goblin counters during the middle of a transaction; frightening a witch who'd been selling some old family jewelry for galleons. "

"Where'd he get the portkey?"

"That is what caused the hornet's nest. No human is allowed to own or use a portkey that can enter Gringotts; unless given special dispensation by one of the upper level managers (such as the one authorized to move the boy down into the caverns). The bank has been locked down, with the customers being confined to one of the conference rooms while we investigate matters. Trevor in the mean time has been declared a prisoner of the bank and Chief Ragnok is threatening the Minister of Magic with war due to a perceived breach of the treaty signed between the goblins and the Ministry. I am here to question our friend."

"Wasn't a portkey," Trevor coughed as he opened his eyes and turned slowly to face the goblin. "It was disillusioned phoenix drop. Dumbledore wanted me discredited and neutralized before tomorrow's planned conference and he was most angry when he learned the muggles granted me custody of Harry. His pet Death Eater was the one who broke into our offices. I was there when he entered through the back door. He was surprised to find me in the building and we brawled for several minutes before I managed to trip the wards sending out the alert. Dumbledore it seems; has a few toys that allow his people to bypass certain security measures."

"Anyway, we fought for a bit, and then he must have either stunned me or knocked me unconscious because when I next woke up I was in what I assume was Dumbledore's office at Hogwarts. Dumbledore was extremely upset that Snape had been seen, let alone that the man had kidnapped me. He would have probably magicked a stone to my feet and dropped me in the school's lake if not for Kingsley's timely arrival. Shack couldn't see me; the old man had dropped an invisibility cloak over me and silenced me so I couldn't make a sound. I didn't hear much of what they talked about, I was half out of it and still groggy from whatever Snape had hit me with."

"After Shack left though, Dumbledore set me up in front of his desk and lectured me about all the problems I was causing for him. He then used forced Legilimency on me to raid my memories. Something went wrong when he accessed or tried to access certain memories though. I remember him screaming in pain and Snape firing a stunner at my face. When I woke up next, Dumbledore attempted to Obliviate both my memories of Harry and knowledge of being attacked by both Snape and himself. I'm thank it backfired spectacularly (though I doubt he knows that just yet) and once again I was stunned. I woke once more in his office while he was spelling his glorified post-owl invisible before he ordered it to drop me off in the middle of the bank from a height of no less than ten feet so as to give the appearance of a portkey drop. Damned pigeon simply picked me up, flashed me away, and let me go."

"You feel up to having the memory pulled?"

"No, but do it anyway. I'm as ready as I'll ever be," Trevor insisted as he closed his eyes and nodded.

Klouse immediately began pulling out a huge strand of memory while Backbiter conjured up a temporary vial to hold it. The moment the memory pulled loose, Trevor slipped back into unconsciousness.

Backbiter quickly copied the memory and ordered one of the goblin soldiers standing nearby to send it up to Chief Ragnok, post haste, with an outraged growl. There were only three ways to piss off a goblin; one was to steal from them, another was to stand in the way of a goblin dealing out goblin justice, and the last was to lie to a goblin. Dumbledore had just done all three, if in an indirect and round about way. He had lied to the entire goblin nation (in the form of faking a portkey breach of the bank), he'd attempted to force their hand into meting out justice against an innocent which would have broken the long held treaty between goblins and wizards, and the results would have cost the goblins more than one half of their assets; hence the threat of theft.

With proof of his crimes in the form of Trevor's memory (who had been quite lucid at the time of Dumbledore ordered him to be dropped off at the bank) Dumbledore would soon become persona non grata with the entire goblin nation. Trevor on the other hand, would be compensated heavily for the near fatal mistake of holding him as a prisoner who faced a quick execution at the least. The monies awarded to the squib would be pulled directly from Dumbledore's rather more than modest vault after the goblins confiscated the contents. So, while Dumbledore would retain his properties, he'd never again be allowed to hold a vault with the bank let alone allowed to step foot inside the back, which meant his cash funds would be severely limited as in order to collect his pay from his various positions, he'd need both the vault and permission to be on Gringotts property.

While the goblins were processing Dumbledore's severe breach of trust, Klouse began preparing a new case against the aging wizard and his lackey Snape. Combined with Harry's case against Dumbledore, the old man was going to be caught firmly between a rock and a hard place. At the same time, starting the day after Trevor's disappearance, a series of Daily Prophet articles appeared, complete with explicit (and highly classified) photos of Harry's tale of abuse at the hands of his muggle family. It seems one Rita Skeeter had been on the scene during Snape's break in and used the opportunity to sneak into the office in disguise. When she didn't find any evidence, she later hitched a ride on one of the aurors to investigate the scene and was unknowingly led directly to one of the evidence caches within the ministry. She promptly emptied said cache and used what she found to splash her sensationalized article all over the wizarding paper.

Amelia was furious about the leak and fighting to contain the growing mobs that had taken to marching on the Ministry during all hours of the day and night. Minister Fudge was in a complete panic, Lucius Malfoy suspiciously smug, Delores Umbridge secretly gleeful, and the many departmental heads outraged, ashamed, or horrified depending on their views.

On the day of Trevor's return, things had progressed to the point where that the wizarding world had effectively ground to a halt in the wake of the poignant articles. By comparison, in the muggle world, things moved along as scheduled and expected as the day of the Dursley's trial finally arrived.

_June 21, 1985 8:00 AM _

"All rise for the Honorable Judge Taylor," the bailiff cried out once the defense had been seated.

"Please be seated. Bailiff, what is our first case?" Judge Taylor instructed as he settled into his seat and banged the gavel.

"Your Honor, our first case on our books is The Crown versus Dursley."

"Very well, is the Prosecution ready? Is the Defense ready? Good, the Prosecution may make opening statements."

Klouse rose from his seat and addressed the courts, "Your honor, members of the jury, I hold in my hand less than a dozen photographs of Harry James Potter, who is unable to attend the trial at this time due to his continued hospitalization at a private clinic. This first image is one of only a couple dozen such photos that were taken on April thirtieth this year when officers removed the child from his prison cell, in the form of a cupboard under the stairs of a two story, four bedroom town house, on the premises of Number Four Privet Drive. The registered home of Vernon and Petunia Dursley, the defendants."

"Prior to the date these images were taken, there had been no photographs taken of Mr. Potter. In fact there was no evidence that Harry Potter existed before the day he was taken from the not-so-loving care of Mr. and Mrs. Dursley. As far as the neighbors were concerned, the only occupants of Number Four were Vernon Dursley, Petunia Dursley, and their son Dudley Dursley. Why would the defendants wish to keep the knowledge of Mr. Potter's presence hidden from their neighbors and from the authorities?"

"I'll tell you why. They were afraid; afraid that the world would discover their darkest and most vile secret. You see, Vernon and Petunia Dursley hated Mr. Potter. They kept him locked out of sight, denied him proper food, clothing, and housing, and beat him over the slightest provocation (real or imagined). Mr. Dursley had a bad day at work? He blamed it on the young toddler and administered vicious corporeal punishment. Mrs. Dursley's homemade brownies burned? Mr. Potter was blamed and locked in his cupboard for a week or two with little to no food. Young Dudley Dursley was not doing well in school? Mr. Potter must have bewitched his teachers and therefore must be punished!"

"Tell me; honored members of the jury, what kind of people blame the ills of the world on a four year old boy? I'll tell you what kind," Klouse intoned loudly and firmly as he flung his arm out and pointed at the Dursleys where they sat fuming. "Right there, seated before you are two such monsters. I am here to prove beyond a reasonable doubt that both adult Dursleys are guilty of unspeakable crimes against Harry James Potter."

The courtroom exploded in cries of outrage and it took the judge several minute to regain order before presenting an opportunity for the defense to give their opening argument, which unfortunately wasn't anywhere near as passionate or as eloquent as the prosecutions.

"Vernon and Petunia Dursley plead not guilty," the harassed and petulant county defense lawyer assigned to the Dursleys announced tonelessly, as he'd been instructed by Vernon Dursley during their first, and only, meeting prior to going to trial.

The judge gave the defense lawyer a sharp look that the lawyer responded to with gesture implying his hands had been tied. Raising an eyebrow, the judge moved the trial forward and ordered the Prosecution to call the first witness.

The rest of the trial proceeded in much the same vein. A string of solid testimonies provided by witnesses called by Klouse, these included the recounts of Leticia Jasper, Francine Hughes, Trevor Matheson, Amelia Bones, Sergeant Bud Timmons, Jake Weber, and each one of the numerous doctors and specialists that operated on little Harry (after having their memories temporarily restored). The defense put up a brave try at poking holes through Klouse's case but was left floundering with each failure.

The worst mistake of the day happened when Vernon took the stand though, at his own request (or rather upon demanding to be placed upon the stands), and completely shot down his own not-guilty plea by blaming everything on one little boy. When all was said and done, the trial would go down in history as one of the shortest and most brutal cases of child abuse and neglect ever to be tried. The jury had taken less than twenty minutes to unanimously convict both Dursleys. Judge Taylor sentenced them to four back to back life terms (fifty years each) in prison each; one term for each year Harry lived in their care. Vernon had to be dragged out of the court room by three officers as he raged that it was all the freak's fault.

Poor Dudley was turned over to the custody of his Aunt Marge who in turn gave custody of him over to social services and he ended up back at the orphanage before the weekend was over. The existence of a Swedish bank account held by the Dursleys was found to contain close to three million pounds, money it turned out that was stolen by the Dursleys from Lily's muggle bank account that had been set up in Harry's name (a windfall she'd set aside should they end up fleeing the Wizarding world in order to hide from Voldemort's forces plus the interest it had generated for the past three years). How the Dursleys found out about the money and gained access to the account was unclear (Trevor and Klouse suspected Dumbledore's involvement). The Dursleys remaining assets were liquidated and in combination with the return of the stolen funds were awarded to Harry for partial compensation; minus various legal fees and fines. Marge Dursley tried to appeal the awarding of punitive damages, claiming the need due to having her nephew in her care but was denied emphatically when it was learned she'd given up custody of said nephew almost immediately after leaving the courtroom.

That evening, as scheduled, Amelia presided over a press conference where Trevor and Klouse answered numerous questions about the truth behind the rumors of Harry Potter's abuse at the hands of his relatives. Towards the end of the Q and A session, the crowd witnessed one Albus Dumbledore being forcefully ejected from the doors of Gringotts by a troupe of hostile goblins that remained on the steps leading into the bank.

At the same time as Dumbledore's rather boney behind made contact with the cobbled streets of Diagon Alley, Harry was being given his first ever present (not counting his secret treasures left behind by Kreacher) in the form of a set of cast iron figurines by Leticia.

"These… these are for me?" Harry asked in wonder as he sat watching the box with an unreadable expression.

Jake had just helped angle the back of the gurney so young Harry could semi-sit up for the first time in months when Leticia placed the unopened box of models into the boy's lap.

"I bought them just for you," Leticia agreed.

"Why?"

"Why not?" Leticia countered. "Every little boy deserves to have toys."

"Not freaks," Harry whispered, still unable to comprehend he was no less special than any other boy.

"I don't see any freaks in here," Leticia loudly insisted. "Do you Healer Weber?"

"Not a one."

"If you'd like, I can open them box so you can play with them," Leticia offered when Harry offered no further arguments against accepting the toys.

"I can… I can play with them?"

"They are yours."

Once out of the box and in his lap, Harry just quietly ran his fingers over every surface of the two inch high figurines. His hands trembling as he delicately traced the painted teeth of the dragon, making no sounds as he turned the piece this way and that committing each detail to memory; as if he expected them to be taken away any moment.

When Jake announced it was time for him to lay back down, Lettie asked one of the goblins for a tall table for the toys to sit on where Harry could see them and touch them any time he wanted. He fell asleep not long after facing the row of metal models, one hand firmly wrapped around the dragon, which he'd not wanted to let go of. Leticia let him keep it, suspecting it would break his heart if she insisted he leave it with the others.

Trevor was all smiles when he entered with Klouse later that night. The press release had gone fairly smoothly, though Skeeter had been her usually caustic self, with the added benefit of providing an audience of hundreds for Dumbledore's forceful removal from Gringotts' property. He grew serious when he found Leticia quietly sobbing next to Harry's bed.

"What's wrong? What happened?"

"How can people be so cruel?" Lettie sobbed in frustration. "He argued with me. He didn't want to be given a gift. He didn't think he deserved to have toys. What else have they done to him? What else have they denied him? He still won't even acknowledge his name!"

Not knowing what else to do, Trevor simply enfolded the distraught young woman in his arms and held her. She sobbed and ranted in turns for close to an hour as he gently rocked her, letting her release the stress of the last week as she grieved for young Harry and the life he'd endured on top of the shock of being thrust so abruptly into the magical world. When she finally calmed down, he led her to one of the blanket covered benches in the room and helped her sit down.

She clung to him when he tried to stand up, so he joined her on the bench and rubbed her back while murmuring softly. "It's over now, that part of his life will soon fade to nothing more than bad memories. You saved him, Leticia; you helped bring him away from those vile people. They'll never harm him again."

"You're wrong," Leticia whispered tragically, "they are hurting him even now. The poison they fed him is still there, inside him and it will never completely go away."

"That is only partially true," Trevor countered gently, "Given time, he will learn that they lied to him and hopefully will be stronger for having survived this period of his life. It is up to us now, to show him how wrong they were. We have to be strong for him; to un-teach the lessons they forced onto him. He will be fine though, I know he will. I have faith in him."

Eventually, Leticia cried herself to sleep and Trevor gently laid her down and placed a blanket over her before taking up a vigil at Harry's side. He'd not had a chance to speak with the boy much, given everything that had happened during the week. As he sat there he pondered what Harry's reaction to the changes in his life would be. He was shaken out of his contemplations by a tiny little voice.

"You came back?"

"Of course," Trevor replied as he leaned closer to Harry and watched the emotions play across his young face. "I didn't want to leave you but sometimes things happen that are out of our control."

"Oh. Who…"

Trevor tilted his head as he studied the warring emotions on Harry's face. Years of questioning a wide variety of witnesses had given him a good understanding of body and facial language as well as how to read emotions on the faces of those who couldn't hide them, especially young children. Right now, he could tell Harry was curious and terrified as well as more than a little confused. Trevor couldn't blame him, what with everything that had happened in such a short time; especially in Harry's eyes because he'd spent so little time conscious since he'd been pulled from his cupboard.

Smiling gently Trevor brushed a hand over Harry's growing hair and encouraged, "You can ask me any question you wish to, Harry. You don't have to be afraid of me getting angry because you are curious."

Harry widened his eyes dramatically, more than a little caught off guard by being given permission to ask his questions. (He was still waiting to be punished for the earlier questions he hadn't been able to stop himself from voicing, after all.) If he'd been a few years older, he might have believed the permission to be a trap; but he was still too young to have developed the cynical side like that of his future's self. But then, his future self had spent close to seventeen years under the tyrannical thumb of his twisted relatives (though his older self had also not physically suffered as much as the current Harry). Still, close to four years of being told questions were not allowed are not that easy to forget, at least two of those years with added physical discomfort and pain for reinforcement just clouded the matter in his mind further.

"How about I see if I can guess what questions you'd like to ask and you nod yes or no?" Trevor asked carefully when Harry still hadn't said anything. "Would that be easier for you?" A stilted nod from Harry and Trevor smiled encouragingly. "Good. Let's start with a small question of mine first; are you in any pain?"

When Harry just bit his lip and averted his eyes, Trevor bit back a sigh over the child's sudden reluctance to admit he was hurting and fetched the potion Jake had left for the child's pain and offered said child the straw. He expected it to take a few minutes to coax Harry into taking the potion but that wasn't the case (Harry long use to complying to orders with immediate obedience). A few sips later and Harry was snuggling back into his pillow with a dragon in one fist and the wizard in the other.

"Ready? (Harry shrugged his left shoulder as he watched Trevor warily) I suppose I should start then. Would you like to know who I am? (a reluctant nod) Fair enough. My name is Trevor Matheson. I am a lawyer. Do you know what a lawyer is?" A reluctant single shake of the head had Trevor explaining further.

As Trevor asked and answered questions for young Harry, the small boy slowly began to relax. He practically drank up the answers, his attention avidly fixed upon Trevor without waver. It unnerved Trevor on some levels, for most children allowed their attention to roam after relatively short spans. After nearly an hour, Harry dared to ask a single question of his own.

"Are you a magic man too?"

Trevor smiled and shook his head. "No, I'm not."

"Why not?"

"It's a long story, so before we start why don't you take another sip of your potion here while I get us a little something to eat?"

Trevor watched Harry sip the potion before he walked over to the door and asked one of the goblin guards if he could get a bowl of thin soup and a few sandwiches. The guard grunted an affirmative and told him he'd have it ready shortly. Trevor thanked him before returning to Harry's side.

"Now, where were we," Trevor hedged a bit, trying to settle the discomfort he felt speaking about his life as a squib. "My reasons for not being a wizard, what you called a magic man, are different than others. You see, I was born with magic and the ability to use magic. Both of my parents and all four of my older sisters were magical people as well. My mother and sisters being what we call witches instead of wizards. Anyway, when I was born I could use magic just like the rest of my family."

Halfway through his explanation, they were interrupted by a female goblin carrying a tray of food. Harry seemed nervous and fascinated by the creature as she placed the tray over Harry's lap while Trevor rose to his feet and lifted Harry's bed so he could sit up and eat. He hid a smile when Harry made faces over the bowl of soup; such a normal reaction was quite refreshing to see. "You have to ask Healer Weber when you can eat something a bit heavier than soup. For now though, I'm afraid light liquids with little flavor are the order of the day."

Harry simply nodded and silently began trying to feed himself but when he found his arms didn't quite want to work properly he began crying and fighting harder; spilling the soup all over his hospital gown. Trevor gently took the spoon from his hand and shushed him calmly, keeping his voice low and soft. "Here, don't worry about the mess and not being able to feed yourself; your body and muscles are still recovering. Let me help you."

He could see the boy was ashamed and embarrassed but Trevor simply began feeding him one spoonful at a time until Harry indicated that he was full. He'd eaten less than half of the remaining soup. Harry looked worried that he'd be in trouble but Trevor simply praised him for eating as much as he did and moved the tray out of the way. Trevor then called over his shoulder and asked Klouse of he could give him a hand.

Harry shrank away from the new face, his insecurities quickly coming forward. Klouse just smiled reassuringly at him while Trevor explained the need to clean up the spilled soup. Klouse grinned widely and winked at Harry before pulling out his wand and sucking the spilled soup up into the tip with a whispered spell. Harry's mouth dropped open in surprise and Klouse saluted him comically before wandering back to where he'd been preparing case notes for the wizarding trials that were scheduled to begin on Monday.

When Harry settled back against his pillow, Trevor picked up where he left off in his story in between bites of his sandwiches. "As I grew older, I didn't perform accidental magic like most children though, meaning I didn't make weird things happen when I was angry, hurt, or overly excited. So my parents took me to the hospital to have my magic tested to see if there was anything wrong with it. It turned out my magic was… broken… and that it couldn't be fixed. I was then labeled a squib. A squib is someone, born to a witch and wizard, who is unable to do magic themselves."

"No magic makes you sad?"

"Not exactly, I didn't mind not having magic. I had, or thought I had the love of my family. They were sad though and angry too. When I was older, they were ashamed of me so they sent me away. I was mad at them for a long time but I have my own life now."

"They called you Freak?"

"Some people did," Trevor admitted quietly as he leaned forward and met Harry's green gaze with his. "But they were wrong. I was just a boy and now I am just a man. I eat, breathe, and walk just like every one else. Just like you are a boy right now and will one day be a man."

"Boys have names. Freaks don't."

Trevor contemplated Harry's wistful expression as he leaned back in the chair. He weighed his words carefully, considering how each word or phrase might affect the small boy, before leaning forward and stating, "I met your father once, when he was just a young boy, not too much older than you are now. He looked much like you, with messy black hair, and curious hazel eyes. When he graduated from school, I heard rumors that he'd married a charming young woman with fiery red hair and intelligent green eyes, eyes that must have looked remarkably like yours. They were, so I was told, both wonderful people. I know for a fact that they gave you a name when you were born."

"Harry James," Harry breathed with wide eyes as he stared into Trevor's eyes, his expression now hungry and desperate as a faint memory rose up from the depths of his mind. "Mummy called me her little man."

"She loved you very much," Trevor added thickly. "I wish I had known more than just her name. I only met James because he was my wife's favorite cousin. So, in a way, you and I are family, because my wife was your father's second cousin."

Harry's expression back-peddled, quickly filling with fear and Trevor mentally cursed.

"Not all families hurt each other, Harry; most families love each other very, very much. We, you and I, were dealt a bad hand but that doesn't mean we can't find happiness in our own way. The Dursleys, your aunt, uncle, and cousin, can't hurt you anymore. They have been locked away for hurting you the way they did."

"I broke the rules, I was bad," Harry cried as he fractured a little more.

"No, their rules were bad. They made bad choices. You are a little boy that they treated wrongly. Little boys need love; they need toys, clothes, and plenty to eat. Little boys need to run and play in the sunshine with their friends and family. Little boys need to have their questions answered and most of all; little boys need hugs and kisses when they are hurting." As he spoke this last, Trevor leaned forward off his chair and enveloped Harry in a gentle hug and placed a kiss upon his forehead.

Harry stiffened at the first contact but when Trevor didn't do anything but hold him loosely he slowly melted into the comforting warmth of the arms wrapped around him. When Trevor continued to just hold him, he snuggled deeper into the embrace and slowly started to cry, harsh wracking sobs as his soul poured out all the hurting it was feeling inside. His heart soaking up the feelings of being wanted and comforted that it had longed for over close to four long, hard years while at the same time his head kept telling him that none of this could be real.

In the background Leticia wiped tears from her eyes and curled back on the bench with her eyes lingering on the tender scene while her heart ached for one lost little boy.

_June 22, 1985 6:54 AM_

When Jake Weber entered the room to check on Harry's progress, he was surprised to find Trevor lying in bed beside the small boy, the two of them listening to Leticia read descriptions of various reptiles that muggles labeled as dragons. Trevor had one arm wrapped around Harry and the two of them were playing cat and mouse with the tiny models that Leticia had given the boy the day before. Harry was giggling each time Trevor made the wizard run away from the dragon that Harry was flying through the air with wobbly swipes of his arm.

Klouse stepped up beside Jake as he watched and shook his head. "They've been playing like that since three o-clock this bloody morning," the exhausted lawyer grumbled. "If it wasn't such a relief to see the lad smile I'd stun them both just so I could get some sleep. You wouldn't happen to have any Pepper Up on hand would you?"

"Not with me, no, but I can have some brought over later. Do you know what triggered Harry's abrupt change in behavior?"

"Yes, Trevor spent a long time talking with him last night. They had a good heart to heart and after a bit the boy broke down and had a good long cry. After that he slept in Trevor's arm for a few hours before waking up about two-thirty screaming. Trevor calmed him down, gave him some of the pain potion, and the two of them have been goofing around ever since. Ms. Hall joined them about an hour ago when they showed no signs of slowing down or stopping."

Jake chuckled and headed over to the bed when he saw Leticia take a break from the book. Both Trevor and Harry looked up as he approached and Jake was sad to see that the boy's happy face instantly crumple with dismay. Pretending not to notice the change, he set his healer's bag down on the edge of the bed and began waving his wand over Trevor, pretending to check him over as he jokingly exclaimed, "My goodness, Harry, you've grown over night! You are looking good, but I'm afraid there's nothing I can do to stop the gray hairs and premature balding."

"Hey!" Trevor groused, "I am not going bald!"

Harry ducked his head and giggled once, his nose scrunching up adorably as he fought to not laugh. On the other side of the bed Leticia's laugh chimed as she mischievously pointed out that there seemed to be a considerable amount of his hair covering the pillow. This elicited a few more giggles from the child while Trevor pretended to pout.

"Now that the drama is over, how about I give you a proper check up, Harry?"

Harry nodded reluctantly as Trevor slipped down off the bed and placed a kiss on his forehead. "Leticia will keep an eye on the magic man for you," he whispered conspiratorially. "She'll make sure he doesn't vanish your hair a second time."

This made Harry's eyes go wide as he reached up and felt his shorter than normal hair. He made a disbelieving whimper as he ran his fingers over his head until he felt the long incision that had been cut into the back of his skull.

"Don't worry, Harry, I promise not to vanish your hair. I didn't vanish it the first time either. The doctors shaved your hair off because they needed to operate on the back of your head. Here, lean to the side a bit and I will put some cream on it that will help it heal. It will stop any pain you feel from the incision and help prevent the skin from scarring. Sorry, it's a bit cold. There you go, give it a moment to dry before you roll over onto your back. I'm going to use magic to scan your entire body now, making sure everything is healing as it should, try not to squirm when you feel it tickle. Good job. I'm impressed; your magic is finally helping to heal the remaining trauma from your injuries and the operations you underwent."

"My magic? I'm… I'm a magic man too?"

"Yes, Harry, you are," Trevor answered warmly. "You are a young wizard. A very special young wizard."

"Are… do… is… my…?"

"No, your aunt, uncle, and cousin are not magical," Trevor explained when he guessed what Harry was trying to ask. "I think that your aunt was jealous of you and her sister, your mother, because you both had magic and she did not. I think that's why she hurt you the way she did and your uncle was just a bully; both of them were wrong to treat you the way they did."

"Oh," Harry said as he scrunched his little nose up and thought deeply. "They called me a freak because I could do magic and they couldn't. Like your family called you a freak because you couldn't do magic like they could? Because we were different?"

"Yes, Harry," Trevor agreed. "That doesn't mean they were right. Different is just that; different. Everyone is different, whether it's their eye and hair color, how tall or short they are, or whether they can perform magic or not. Different is what makes us special."

Harry frowned as he thought about that carefully for a few minutes before pushing the uncomfortable thought out of his mind because it conflicted with everything he'd been taught. When he noticed Trevor watching him, he half shrugged his shoulder as he curled up against his pillow and watched the older man. After a moment of silence, Trevor spoke up once more.

"I'll be back in a bit, sport; I have a few things I need to take care of before I can hunt us up a little something for breakfast. Why don't you ask Healer Weber if you can have some eggs and toast instead of soup for breakfast."

"No toast," Harry and Jake said at the same time, both of them looking towards either other in surprise.

"Okay, I can guess why Jake doesn't want you to have toast; it might be too dry for your still tender throat. But why don't you want to have toast?" Trevor inquired. When Harry didn't answer right away, he prompted the child again with a soft, "Harry?"

"I don't like toast," Harry whispered, barely audible as tears leaked down his face. "It's all… that was… it was the only thing she'd let me eat… all scratchy and dry…"

Trevor had his arms around Harry before he finished, gently rocking him and assuring him that it was all right, that it would be alright and that he would never be forced to eat dry toast again. Once Harry was calmer, Trevor let him go and asked him how he liked his eggs (scrambled) and if he wanted anything special to drink (juice) and if there was anything else he needed (no).

A short while later he returned with a tray holding huge bowl piled high with scrambled eggs, a plate of sausages, a tall pitcher of apple juice, a bowl of oatmeal (for Leticia) and several plates, glasses, and forks. He set the tray down at the end of Harry's bed then passed Leticia her bowl before dishing Harry up a small plate of eggs. He gave the plate and one of the forks to Harry and watched as the boy once more fumbled with the utensil.

"I was afraid that might be the case," Jake murmured from where he had been standing and observing Harry. "Harry, can you put the fork down for a second and hold both of your arms out to the side for me please?" Harry reluctantly followed directions, his little arms swaying and wobbling out of his control as he tried to do as asked. "You can put them down now, thank you."

"Am I broken?" Harry begged to know as he sniffled a bit, both his hands now firmly buried in his lap, his arms trembling from the effort of trying to hold them up.

"No, not broken, just not fully healed yet. You see, when the back of your head got hurt, your skull was cracked. Because your aunt and uncle didn't take you to see a doctor to have it healed, it began to swell and the blood, from broken blood vessels, began to pool around your brain at the back of your head. This put pressure on parts of your brain. One part that was affected is the part that helps your brain control your coordination; what helps you move your muscles so you can walk in a straight line or lift a fork to eat. So, because your brain will take time to heal from the constant pressure of the blood that had pooled and pushed against it for a long time, it will take time for you to have complete control over your muscles. Especially the muscles in your arms and legs."

"In the mean time," Trevor added gently, "we can help you. It might be a bit embarrassing to be hand fed like an infant but in time you'll be able to do it by yourself again."

"There are exercises I can teach you that will help strengthen your muscles while your brain is healing as well," Jake said as he pulled out a couple more flasks of Harry's pain potion as well as a thick reddish orange potion. "After you finish your breakfast I want you to drink one ounce of this potion," he lifted the reddish orange one a bit to make sure Harry knew which one, "and another ounce after you eat supper tonight. It will help your bones get stronger. I'll be by tomorrow morning to check on you and make sure the potion is working properly."

As the healer left; Trevor lifted Harry's fork, stabbed a medium sized piece of egg, and lifted it up to Harry's mouth. Harry glared at the egg for a full minute before his tummy growled and he grudgingly accepted the bite. Trevor smothered his grin and simply took a bite of sausage while preparing the next bite for Harry.

Leticia took over halfway through Harry's breakfast, so that Trevor could do more than just steal the occasional bite of his own, and offered Harry bites in between showing him some of the pictures in the reptile book. This helped take his mind off the embarrassment of being fed like a baby. When he couldn't eat any more, he took his dose of Bone Knit potion, followed by a sip of his pain killer before he curled up to listen as Leticia continued reading out facts about the different lizards and serpents with dragon like traits. While they were occupied, Trevor and Klouse checked over the case notes for Monday's session of the Wizengamot. They'd reached the list of evidence when Trevor realized there was one huge glaring omission.

"If we're going to nail Dumbledore's boney arse to the wall, we're going to need Harry's memories."

"I could pull a random few without him knowing but if we want his entire life with the Dursleys or specific incidents we're going to need his cooperation. You know that, Trev."

"What about doing a complete siphon while he sleeps? I know it can be done with coma patients when the need arises."

"True, but those same coma patients are typically adults, adults, need I remind you, that are never expected to recover and usually removes their entire lifetime of memories."

"That might not be such a bad thing for Harry," Trevor countered with more than a hint of sadness. "He's had a shitty life, Klouse, worse than being set out on the street before age eleven. I gave up feeling sorry for myself a long time ago but after seeing just a few tiny glimpses of what he's been through make me ashamed for the self pity I experienced growing up and for the depression I wallowed in after Grizela's murder. Do you think Jake would know any alternatives for pulling the memories?"

"We could ask him."

"Let's go find him then. We don't have much time left if we're going to have something by Monday."

After letting Leticia and Harry know that they would be back later, Klouse and Trevor headed out to find Jake. It didn't take long, for the healer had been on his way back with a restorative draught for Klouse. The three of discussed different processes for accessing the memories with as little trauma as possible for young Harry but couldn't come up with a viable solution. Determined to find a way, they took their problem to the experts; the Obliviators employed by the Ministry of Magic. The Obliviators directed then to the Department of Mysteries where they were met by the mysterious Croaker and explained the problem they were facing once more, carefully leaving out any names.

"Let me get this straight," Croaker rasped as he leveled an emotionless gaze on Trevor. "You wish to take memories from an abused child without causing him harm or making him relive said memories so that you can use those memories to litigate against one or more parties so that justice can be served. Yes?"

"Yes."

"Answer me one thing truly and I may be able to help you. Is this boy you speak of, Harry Potter?" Trevor stiffened and would have walked away if not for the surprisingly strong grip of the Unspeakable as he grabbed him. "I ask, because there are rumors that the Dark Lord still lives. And the only person in this entire world with the knowledge to prove or disprove those rumors, whether he knows it or not, is one little boy named Harry James Potter. There is much more at stake than one little boy's happiness, Trevor Lynn Wenlock, and you are fully aware of just how bad things could turn out, aren't you?"

Trevor flinched as if struck, his hand automatically searching out the envelope containing a letter that contained the impossible.

"How…?"

"It is my job, that's how," Croaker airily supplied as he turned and led the three now highly confused men deeper into the Department of Mysteries. "I will gather my equipment and then you will take me to the boy."

"And if we choose not to trust you?"

"Then you go about your business and possibly cause more harm that good by bungling along in matters you only half understand."

"And we have your word that no mention of your visit with the boy will pass your lips?"

"I am an Unspeakable. I speak to no one."

Knowing they weren't going to get more than that, they silently helped the older man pack up a series of rune scribed vials, a large stone basin, several bags of ground quartz powder, two long pieces of rubber tubing, and several jars and pouches of dried herbs. All of the things gathered were carefully placed into a small black satchel that quickly disappeared into Croaker's cloak. The last thing Croaker grabbed before indicating he was ready to leave, was a large diamond cut into the shape of a many faceted crystal ball that glittered with iridescent swirls of red and blue.

The group then traveled by Floo to Diagon Alley where they quickly made their way to the bank. At the entrance to the vaults, the goblins subjected the group to a thorough search (looking for hidden bugs or tracking charms) before leading them down one level. At this point, all four men were led into the depths by a curious Backbiter. After several minutes they finally reached the room where Leticia was currently straightening up the blankets and sheets on the various sleeping benches around the room while Harry slept.

"He still looks like hell," Croaker commented after taking one look at the boy.

"You would too if you'd been virtually tortured for four years of your life," Trevor remarked dryly as he approached Harry's bed and gently ran his fingers through the boy's hair. "We nearly lost him."

"That would have been the worst thing to have happened," Croaker snapped as he pulled out his bag and began setting up the various items on the table that held Harry's figurines. He reached for the metal figures and made as if to move them out of the way when a tiny voice, that wavered fearfully, begged him not to take his only toys away from him. Croaker looked down into the vibrant green eyes of Harry Potter and slowly dropped his hand away from the toys. "I wasn't going to take them from you; I just wanted to move them so I didn't accidentally break them."

Harry didn't say anything in response; he simply reached out with shaky and trembling arms to carefully lift each one down into the bed beside him all the while watching the man standing at his bedside.

"Talkative little fellow, isn't he?" Croaker sarcastically commented as he continued to set up several bottles on the table and connected them with short lengths of tubing that had been cut off from the two longer pieces to the large stone bowl that he placed on the bed between Harry's legs. Next he pulled out a bag of ground quartz crystals and set it beside the bottles. While he worked, Harry watched his every move, his expressive green eyes distrustful of this new stranger.

Trevor shook himself out of his stupor and approached Harry from the other side of the bed, taking the little boy's hand in his while whispering words of comfort. Leticia merely watched from where she stood, not certain if she'd be in the way if she moved closer.

Croaker ignored them all as he mixed various amounts of the dried herbs he'd brought in a glass with some water he conjured with his wand. As he stirred it, the mixture turned a rather putrid greenish brown in color. The intimidating Unspeakable than met Harry's gaze once more and stated, "I'm going to put you in a magical sleep, you will still be able to hear everything going on around you but you won't feel or see anything. I'm then going to remove your gown and paint some funny symbols on your chest with this gross looking potion. They will feel hot for a few minutes, before you feel like you are floating. At that point you may feel an uncomfortable tugging in your mind; that will be me going through your memories."

"I don't understand," Harry cried fretfully.

"Harry," Trevor called softly, "I asked Mr. Croaker here to help us. You see, wizards have a way of copying memories so that other people can see them. Usually, the person whose memories are being copied have to help. I didn't want you to have to go through something like that so soon but we need to see those memories so that the people responsible for you being with the Dursleys can be made to see they made a mistake. There are some people who wish you to be given back to your aunt and uncle. We are going to stop them. Alright? In order to do that, we need your memories so we can tell people why you can't be allowed to return to them. Mr. Croaker has a way of getting those memories without you seeing them or thinking about them while he is copying them. It may be uncomfortable but I promise you it won't hurt. I also promise I will be right here holding your hand the entire time, okay?"

"Okay," sniffled Harry as he moved closer to Trevor, seeking the comforting warmth of the older man.

Croaker nodded once and tapped his wand to Harry's forehead. A single spark of blue energy jumped from the tip of his wand and landed between the boy's eyes where it quickly sank out of sight. By the time it had completely vanished, Harry was sleeping once more. Trevor helped move the boy into position and pulled down the gown while Croaker fished out a paint brush from his robes.

While the Unspeakable painted the thick potion onto Harry's chest, Trevor held Harry's hand and spoke a constant stream of reassurances to the boy. When the runes on his chest were finished, Croaker turned and painted over the scar left by Voldemort's attack. Next he attached the last two remaining lengths of tubing to Harry's temples with a simple sticking charm before hooking them into the stone basin with another sticking charm.

On the bottles he had sitting table beside the bed; he painted more runes, making comments out loud for the benefit of his audience. "One bottle represents one month of young Mr. Potter's life, so there are sixty bottles for his nearly fives years since birth. Of the two remaining bottles, one will represent the night of October thirty-first Nineteen-eighty-one and the other, larger vial will hold a copy of each memory where Mr. Potter has suffered a life threatening injury; to make your job a little easier since it would be virtually impossible to view and sort five years worth of memories by Monday morning."

Preparations complete, Croaker activated the runes by sprinkling the quartz dust over top of the potion drawn runes. He then placed the oddly shaped crystal ball on Harry's chest and lifted Harry's hands to hold it in place. Trevor moved his own hand to Harry's shoulder, making sure to let Harry know that he was still there with him.

A blue glow of magic rose up out of the crystal ball and flowed up to surround Harry's skull where it sunk in beneath the skin. Shortly afterwards, a sluggish river of memories flowed down the tube connected to Harry's left temple into the stone basin where the memories were duplicated with the copies being siphoned up into the individual bottles on the table. Several minutes after the flow of memories began, a return river of memories filtered up through the tube attached to Harry's right temple back into his brain.

Klouse and Jake avidly watched the transfer and copying process with great interest; both of them thinking of the applications the strange ritual could be used for in their professions. Trevor only spared a few glances towards the strange device, his concern more on making certain Harry stayed calm and watching for any signs that the he was suffering any distress.

Over eight hours later, the entire process had been completed and the amplified memory siphon removed and returned to the confines of Croaker's little black bag. The Unspeakable was currently sitting beside the bed labeling the bottles of memories with parchment while Trevor sponged the remains of the potion runes from Harry's chest and forehead before covering the boy back up. Jake spent a few minutes checking Harry's vitals before bringing the boy out of his magical stupor into a more natural state of sleep. The long process of having his memories copied had drained the child's limited reservoirs of energy and active magic but otherwise left him unharmed.

"If there's anything else you need, feel free to come see me," Croaker announced as he slipped one tiny bottle holding a single memory into his bag and rose from his chair. "You know where to find me."

"Did you leave a copy of that memory for us to sort as well?" Trevor inquired as he leaned back and stretched his cramped back. "I, personally, would like to know what he experienced that night. If only so I may help him through any lingering nightmare's he might experience due to his memories being disturbed."

Croaker contemplated the squib for a minute before nodding and pulling the memory back out of his bag and copying it into a new vial that he passed over to Trevor. "I would limit the number of people you allow to see that. I imagine it won't be an easy memory to view."

Trevor snorted as he tucked it away, "I'm more worried about what I will find in those other bottles of memories than seeing a first hand account of Lord Voldemort's demise."

"Yes, but there is a big difference between viewing dark magic and viewing dark memories," Croaker mystically pointed out before he simply melted from view.

"Cryptic sort of guy, isn't he?" Klouse asked dryly from where he'd moved to glance through the two dozen or so parchment labeled bottles. "Terribly organized though, he's even marked down the order the bottles were filled."

"Fascinating chap, if you ask me," Jake tossed out as he finished checking over Harry. "Makes me wonder what other amazing contraptions they have stored away that might make modern healing easier, better."

"I don't think they share easily," Trevor stated. "Who brought a pensieve?"

"Hey, Backbiter," Klouse hollered as he turned and saw the goblin still watching from the door. "Why wasn't a big fuss made over that guy's exit?"

"Unspeakables… are not… wholly human," Backbiter carefully explained before he too turned and left.

"That was odd, wonder what he meant."

"Ask the walls, the stones will sooner give a complete answer than a goblin."

"At least goblins don't answer in riddles all the time, not like the centaurs do at any rate."

"You have a point," Klouse agreed as he clapped Jake on the shoulder and handed a smaller stone basin over to Trevor. "Here's your pensieve. Shall we drop in on memory lane and see what the truth shall reveal?"

"I suppose we must," Trevor agreed, his face turning whiter as he uncapped the bottle of memories labeled Near Death Experiences and allowed Klouse to transfer a couple dozen memory strands into the basin; a minute later all three men reluctantly put in a finger and froze in place while their consciousness was dumped into Harry's worst memories of his life at the Dursleys.

Leticia watched them with dull brown eyes, her curiosity suppressed for once. She had no desire to know any more about the suffering of the boy she'd come to think of as her own. Instead, she dug into the box of items that the Aurors had picked up from her home and pulled out a large photo album of baby pictures that her mother had given her when she turned eighteen and moved to the college dorms. She thought Harry might enjoy sharing some of her most embarrassing moment with her. After a minute, she put the album back into the box as she considered how it might make him feel if he had to see pictures of someone else getting all he'd missed out in his short life. Sighing, she instead pulled out a couple of old story books to read to Harry when she finished with the dragon fact book. She then took her usual seat beside Harry's bed and drew her legs up as she watched the three frozen men locked in the nightmare that had been Harry's life before this past April.

It was going to be a long weekend.

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> _Poor Dumbledore… he's not having a very good day. The Dursley's have earned a small fraction of what is coming to them and Harry appears to be making progress. Next chapter will have the start of the wizarding trials, plenty of madness and mayhem, and some unexpected developments. ~ Jenn_

_10-23-11: Changed 'the People versus the Dursleys' to read 'the Crown versus the Dursleys' to drop the blatant Americanism.  
><em>


	9. How the Mighty will Fall

**Disclaimer: **_All HP characters are the property of JKR, the WB, and respective publishing companies - this is nothing more than a simple FanFiction that I have written. I have made no money from this or any of the other stories I have posted on this or other sites._

**AN:** _Story beta'd by my R/L daughter Sillyhobbit_.

* * *

><p><em><strong><span>Chapter 9: How the Mighty will Fall<span>**_

_June 24, 1985 8:30 AM_

Trevor walked calmly into the courtroom on the heels of Klouse and Amelia, a pair of Aurors flanking his back to protect him from any attempted attacks. As he reached the Plaintiff's table, he looked up defiantly at Dumbledore, his eyes promising the old man retribution for his part in his abduction at the hands of Snape. Dumbledore paled the moment his twinkle-less blue eyes clashed with burning hazel. _Today will be a day of reckoning_, Trevor's eyes promised as he continued to unflinchingly meet the Chief Warlock's gaze.

Dumbledore paled further when Backbiter stepped inside the chamber and marched up to sit in the benches set aside for the prosecution's witnesses. The contingent of six goblins following on Backbiter's heels carried with them three boxes of evidence each. From where he sat behind the Defense's table, Severus Snape seemed more than a touch put out that his evidence destroying trip sanctioned by Dumbledore the previous week appeared to have failed more spectacularly than he'd previously believed.

Delores Umbridge and Lucius Malfoy joined those seated on the side of the defense, something that Trevor noticed right away. He leaned forward and whispered in Klouse's ear for a few minutes before turning around and watching the door for a sign of Leticia, who would be escorted in by a contingent of goblins and Auror guards, hoping that he could spare her the distaste of experiencing Malfoy's condescension.

He was rewarded by the site of four goblins marching in behind one Alastor "Mad Eye" Moody. The grizzled Auror drawing the attention of every eye in the room as his peg leg thumped down loudly with every step. In the middle of the group walked a proud Leticia carrying a blanket wrapped bundle followed by an anxious Jake Weber. Trevor furrowed his brow as his eyes focused on the bundle. When he saw the bundle wiggle and he rose abruptly in anger and concern as it dawned on him just who Leticia was carrying. His eyes sought Leticia's and he calmed slightly as he caught sight of the trepidation she was feeling.

He would have met her halfway if not for Klouse's restraining him by the arm. He leaned down as his partner began whispering frantically in his ear about not drawing additional attention to the group. Reluctantly he returned to his seat, his eyes never leaving Leticia's as she took her seat beside Backbiter, her arms wrapped protectively around the boy she carried hidden in the blanket.

"He pitched a fit about being left alone, Trev," Jake hurriedly explained in a low voice as he leaned over the barrister. "He conjured up a level two tornado in that cavern with a magical outburst unlike anything I've ever seen. I greatly feared he'd suffer a major set back if we left him behind, magically as well as emotionally, and Leticia was on the verge of staying behind; which would have been disastrous. So I dosed him up with a mild half dose of Pepper Up and an extra dose of his pain and the blanket has wards and warming charms spelled into it for protection."

"Damn, I realize there wasn't much choice but I wish there was a different alternative," Trevor hissed back. "It's better then having to gain his trust back; I know that. I just worry that there will be far too many opportunities for someone to attack him here. I take it Mad Eye is the one who warded the blanket?"

"Right in one, though your goblin buddies added a few nasty surprises of their own. They were mightily impressed by the damage he did to the cavern with his accidental outburst. I was told by Backbiter's lieutenant that they felt the shock waves from it way up in the lobby."

Klouse chuckled as he listened in, "He's going to be one hell of a force to be reckoned with when he's trained up properly if he's giving off accidentals like that."

Trevor gave Klouse a tight smile as he scooted his chair closer to where Leticia was sitting and whispered into the blanket so that both Harry and Leticia could here him, "I'm not angry with either of you, just worried about those witches and wizards who would take advantage of you being here, son. Please, try not to draw any more attention to yourself and stay close to Moody and he'll protect you well." The last instruction directed towards Leticia.

Moving back, Trevor noticed that the members of the Wizengamot had been seated and that it was nearly time for the proceedings to start. Glancing around he took note of the reporters sitting in their cordoned off section towards the back of the room; behind a specialized one-directional silencing wards to prevent them from disrupting the proceedings. He also let his eyes seek out the various Aurors that were positioned around the room in order to help keep order while court was in session.

Dumbledore brought the meeting to order then promptly turned the proceedings over to Tiberius Ogden, who would be presiding as Chief Warlock in Dumbledore's place, before taking his place at the Defendant's table while the acting Bailiff, Kingsley Shacklebolt, called the room to order and announced the first case of the morning.

"First case on the docket is Potter versus the Wizengamot."

Quiet muttering could be heard throughout the gallery as well as from the members of the Wizengamot; surprise filling the faces of many as they had expected the trials to be presented in the order they had been petitioned. Albus in particular had counted on the petition of emancipation to be last as he had intended to draw the first two trials out long enough that the other could be put off for as long as possible. There would be nothing he could do now though, because he was not allowed to stand in protest because this particular case had been given to one Delores Umbridge who would stand in defense of the Wizengamot as an Undersecretary to the Minister.

"The Prosecution may present their opening argument at this time," Mr. Ogden declared.

Klouse rose and bowed to the acting Chief Warlock, then to the Wizengamot, and finally to the crowd watching from the gallery. "Honored Warlock, Esteemed Members of the Wizengamot, and my fellow witches and wizards watching from the gallery. I stand before you this morning on behalf of Harry James Potter. A child who, since the fall of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, has been hailed as a hero and seen as a celebrity, since the tender age of one and a half years old, by the majority of the Wizarding World. A child, I remind you, which was left at the mercy of a vicious family by the hands of a wizard and promptly forgotten. A defenseless child that had just lost his mother and father in an act of unspeakable evil was left on the doorstep of a family that did not want him. And where, I ask you, were each of you that terrible night and all through the next day?"

"How many of you stopped to think about the life young Harry would face now that he was orphaned and alone? How many of you tore yourselves away from your joyful celebrations to consider the feelings of young Mr. Potter? You have spent nearly four years worshiping a child for accomplishing something no one else had done. What did he do? He lived. He survived. His parents died to protect him from the evil that hunted their family and he survived because of their sacrifice. And yet, not one person in this room took the time to wonder how young Harry Potter coped with his loss or if they did they kept it to themselves. Not one of the officials in this room took a single minute out of their day to visit young the young Potter, who was hailed as performing a great service for the world, to insure that he was safe. That he was allowed to grieve for the parents that simply vanished one night, never to return."

"No, we as a people failed Mr. Potter. We held him up as an idol and ignored the hidden life of suffering that he'd been delivered into by the hands of one of our own. It took a compassionate muggle, a single woman, to stand up for Harry Potter, a boy whose name she did not even know at the time. To her, he was a child hurting; not some glorified hero of the wizarding world. And she saved our hero. To Mr. Potter; she is the hero."

"Now I have listened, since the day I filed the petitions on behalf of Harry Potter, to witches and wizards from all walks of life muttering that the Boy-Who-Lived should be given over to a proper wizarding family to be raised. I ask you, why? Why should any witch or wizard, who prior to the news of Harry's horrible treatment at the hands of his family never bothered to spare a thought to the child's welfare, be given custody of that same child now? What witch or wizard has earned that right? None. Not one. We were all too busy living out our day to day lives to take the time to be there when he really needed us. We failed him! Magic failed him!"

"So I ask you, members of the Wizengamot, to free Harry Potter of the strings and entanglements of the wizarding world. Free him, so that he may live his life in safety without fearing that he will be auctioned off to the highest bidder. To protect him from those who would use him for political gain. To help keep him from the needy and selfish arms of those who will not understand the suffering that this child has lived through. I am asking you, members of the Wizengamot (the wise wizards and witches of our government) to grant Harry Potter complete emancipation under the Rights of Ascension as ratified in the Goblin Treaty in the year sixteen-eighteen and as permitted by the Pureblood Preservation Pact of seventeen-sixty-three."

When order was restored to the courtroom, Delores Umbridge rose to her feet and gave the Defense's opening argument. "A brave and passionate speech, no doubt, but was there really more to the Prosecution's words than the meets the eye? I ask you, members of the Wizengamot, how saddling a child, not yet age five, with the heavy weight of responsibility could be justified? What child, at the age of five, can properly make decisions regarding his or her life? How does a child know what is best? Can a child know better then an adult who has years of experiences to lead him or her in life?"

"No, a child can not. Petitioning for the child's emancipation is clearly a bid by the Prosecution to steal the child's wealth and title. No sane person, with the best interests of a child, would want to give that child the power to dictate his own life. That is madness! No, it is best to put the boy in the care of a proper wizard so that he might grow up to know his place in society. Not force an entire world to cater to the whims of what is most likely a spoiled child who has been denied a favorite treat or some such nonsense."

The murmurs that broke out when Delores sat down were far from encouraging to either side of the argument, though many people wondered at the veiled threats hidden thinly within the toadish woman's speech.

"The Prosecution may call its first witness," Kingsley intoned when Ogden signaled that he was ready to proceed.

"The prosecution calls War Chief Backbiter of the Outcast Clans to the witness stand."

Umbridge's lip curled up in barely hidden disgust as Backbiter rose and briskly crossed the floor to take a seat in front of the Wizengamot. The goblin gave her a predatory grin in return that had Umbridge unconsciously leaning back in her seat. Once the goblin was seated, Klouse swore him in with magical binding oaths to tell the truth while seated upon the witness's stand and proceeded to question the goblin in relation to the Rights of Ascension.

"Please tell the court, War Chief Backbiter, in your own words, what the Rights of Ascension entail."

"The Rights of Ascension are a series of laws written by wizards for wizards. These laws were designed by the weak-willed men of sixteen-eighteen to protect the interests of family lines that hovered on the brink of extinction. They were only ratified by the goblin nation on the condition that an underage heir of a line, confirmed as the sole surviving member of said line, could be assured the right to inherit without contest. These laws were put in place to prevent subservient lines, with only the barest of claims on said family line, from waltzing in and dislodging the direct heir from the line of ascension due to age. One of the provisions of the Rights allowed for the minor in question to claim emancipation – regardless of age – in order to secure the family line from line theft."

"Thank you, Chief Backbiter. Would you say that the Rights of Ascension are relative to the petition of the Plaintiff?"

"Yes, Mr. Potter is the last remaining Potter in the direct line as well as in many of the indirect lines. His claim supersedes all others and the goblin nation has agreed to uphold his emancipation in regards to all financial inheritances without regards to the decision made by the wizarding government during this trial. Though, a failure on the behalf of the wizards to uphold the Rights of Ascension can be construed as an assault on the Goblin Nation due to the nature of the estate and family line in question. Mr. Potter's family line has been well documented to be over two thousand years old, with the estate carrying a considerable wealth and prestige – though records indicate that the estate has declined dramatically since the demise of the elder Potters in nineteen-seventy-two after being placed under the control of the self appointed guardian, Albus Dumbledore. Gringotts has begun investigating the cause of said decline and will impose the harshest penalties on the party or parties responsible."

Seated behind the defense, Albus Dumbledore blanched noticeably as he caught the predatory look the goblin shot at him.

"Thank you, Chief Backbiter. The Prosecution has no further questions, your honor."

"Madam Umbridge, does the defense have any questions for the witness?"

"No, your honor," Delores simpered while throwing barely suppressed glares of disgust at Backbiter.

"You are hereby released from your oath, War Chief Backbiter, and you may step down," Ogden stated respectfully. "The Prosecution may call the next witness."

"The Prosecution calls Dirk Cresswell the Head of Goblin Liaison Office to the stand."

"Mr. Cresswell, can you please tell us how many years you have held the position as Department Head of the Goblin Liaison Office?"

"Over twenty years now."

"And were you working in that same department prior to becoming the department head?"

"Yes, I'd been an assistant to the previous head of the department for eight years before my promotion."

"To the best of your knowledge, Mr. Cresswell, was War Chief Backbiter's description of the Rights of Ascension accurate?"

"Yes, without a doubt."

"Can you inform the Wizengamot the number of times legal and physical emancipation of a minor so entitled under the Rights of Ascension was denied said emancipation by the governing body of the Wizengamot?"

"Just once."

"Can you please explain to the court the reasons behind the denial?"

"Yes, the petition was denied under an obscure loophole within the Pureblood Preservation Pact that was implemented in seventeen-sixty-three. The boy petitioning the courts had, at the time the petition was placed, been raised outside of the Wizarding World by a muggle orphanage beyond his eleventh birthday. Under the Preservation Pact, the sole heir of a Pureblood line must be introduced to the wizarding world at least one week prior to his or her eleventh birthday."

"Can you please explain the purpose of the Pureblood Preservation Pact to the courts, Mr. Cresswell?

"The Preservation Pact is basically an addendum tacked onto the Rights of Ascension. It was a series of laws designed to protect the traditions of the Pureblood family lines."

"Please explain further."

"The Pact is a… screening method… put in place by unanimous agreement of the Wizengamot in seventeen-sixty-three when a large number of muggleborn witches and wizards became heirs to a few obscure family lines through the Rights of Ascension. The muggleborns at the time were actually the magical children of squibs that returned to claim their family's rightful estates but had been raised outside the wizarding world and were therefore unaware of the time honored traditions that were, and in some cases still are, religiously followed in most families of the time."

"The Pact was created to prevent the loss of those traditions to muggle raised heirs. It basically required the witch or wizard in question to pass the right to inherit to their children with the provisions said child be raised within the wizarding world."

"Returning to the matter of the one denied petition, can you recall the name of the petitioner and the line he claimed?"

"Yes, his name was Tom Marvolo Riddle and he was thirteen at the time of his petition. He was claiming two estates, that of the Gaunt Family and through the Gaunt connection, the fabled estate of Slytherin."

"I am not familiar with the name Tom Riddle nor am I aware of anyone claiming the title of Lord Slytherin," Klouse stated as he glanced down at his notes. "What stopped Mr. Riddle from claiming his titles and his inheritance once he turned seventeen?"

"Under the Pureblood Preservation Pact his claims were deemed null and void the moment his emancipation was denied due to the status of being raised outside of the magical society. The courts at the time deemed his status as heir to both families defunct and prohibited him from claiming his inheritance."

"So, because he was raised in the muggle world beyond his eleventh birthday, he was prohibited from claiming his inheritance even after coming of age?"

"That is correct."

"Was there no way for him to fight the verdict and reclaim his heritage?"

"There are no measures of appealing the decision of the courts in the guidelines of the Preservation Pact because of the binding magics used to uphold the court's decision. However, if Mr. Riddle had fathered a son or daughter and that child had been raised in our society; he or she could have petitioned the courts to claim the inheritance and titles based upon his or her relationship to the previous heir. To this date that has not happened."

"Thank you, Mr. Cresswell, no further questions."

"The defense has no questions at this time," Delores stated before the witness could be turned over to the Defense.

"The Prosecution would like to call Mafalda Hopkirk, to the stand."

"Mrs. Hopkirk, can you please state for the records, what you do for a living?"

"I work in the Improper Use of Magic Office, specifically in that portion of the department that is dedicated to the detection of underage magic."

"Are you familiar with the policies of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?"

"Yes, as a monitor of underage magics I am required to have an intimate working knowledge of both Ministry and Hogwarts' policies."

"Then, can you please tell the courts what the standard Hogwarts Policy is in regards to sending out the yearly invitations to first time students?"

"Of course, the letters of invitation to all new eligible students are sent out no sooner than August first on the summer immediately following their eleventh birthday."

"So, a muggleborn Student born on say December twenty first of nineteen-seventy-four, could expect to be invited to Hogwarts on…?"

"August first, nineteen-eighty-five."

"And a child born on, say July thirty-first of nineteen-eighty?"

"Would receive his or her letter on August first of nineteen-ninety-one."

"Thank you, Mrs. Hopkirk, your witness, Madam Umbridge."

"Mrs. Hopkirk, can you please inform the courts if there are any exceptions to the policy on when acceptance letters are delivered to first year students? And what those exceptions entail?"

"Yes, there is one exception. On years when a vacancy on the staff has not been filled by the first of August, the letters will be held until that position has been filled."

"There are no other exceptions?"

"None."

"Thank you, no further questions."

Now that the significance of both the Rights of Ascension and the Pureblood Preservation Act had been established, Klouse moved on to the next segment of the trial; "The Prosecution would like to call Professor Minerva McGonagall to the stand."

"Professor McGonagall, can you please state for the records, what you do for a living?"

"I am the Transfiguration Professor, Head of Gryffindor House, and Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts."

"Professor McGonagall, where were you on the date of November first nineteen-eighty-one?"

"I spent the day watching a muggle house in Little Whinging, Surrey."

"And why were you watching this house?"

"I had been told by a colleague of mine that Albus Dumbledore would be stopping by that particular house later that evening and I wished to speak with him."

"Why not wait for Headmaster Dumbledore at the school?"

"I didn't know if he would be returning to the school after his meeting or if he would be returning to the Ministry."

"Could you have waited for him at the Ministry instead?"

"No, the Ministry was in shambles at the time and non-employees were encouraged not to enter the premises. So I waited in the one place I was certain to have time to speak with him."

"And did you meet with Headmaster Dumbledore that night?"

"Yes, he arrived just before midnight."

"Would you please explain to the courts what happened after Headmaster Dumbledore's arrival in Surrey?"

"Of course, we greeted each other and spoke of the murder of James and Lily Potter. When I asked him why he was in the muggle neighborhood he said he was placing Harry Potter in the care of his only living relatives. I argued against him leaving the boy, the people in question had behaved quite horribly during the time I observed them. Albus said it was for the best though, so young Harry could grow up away from the fame of being the Boy-Who-Lived."

"Can you tell us how Mr. Potter's relatives reacted when they were asked to take him into their home?"

"No, Albus didn't hand the child over to the Dursleys; he placed him on the porch with a letter."

"I see, no further questions."

Delores indicated she had no desire to cross examine McGonagall (the toad like witch having a long standing feud-like relationship with the stern professor) and a brief fifteen minute break was called so the members of the Wizengamot could stretch their legs and answer nature's call. Trevor spent that time going over his testimony quietly with Klouse; he would be the final witness called for this portion of the proceedings and the only witness likely to be badgered by the defense (since the rest of the witnesses were mostly purebloods or halfbloods from well known families). Once everyone returned to their seats at the end of the short break, the courtroom was called to order.

Klouse called a few more experts to the stand, using their testimony to shore up the points that had already been made. Delores continued with her pattern of random cross examination; mainly in the form of trying to discredit those witnesses that were not of pureblood decent or trying to get answers that would help her case. Finally, after several more hour of testimony, Klouse called his partner up to the stand.

"The Prosecution would like to call Trevor Matheson, Esquire, to the stand."

"Mr. Matheson, can you please state for the records, what you do for a living?"

"I am a lawyer."

"Can you please tell the courts how you learned of the circumstances surrounding the home life of Harry Potter?"

"I was approached by Leticia Hall, who was concerned about a child she had observed. After viewing her memories I discovered the identity of the child was young Harry Potter."

"Tell me, Mr. Matheson, with whom was Mr. Potter living when you were able to track down his location?"

"He was living with a family of muggles; the woman purported to be the biological sister of Mr. Potter's mother."

"To the best of your knowledge, did Mr. Potter have any other living relatives that he could have been placed with after the night his parents were murdered?"

"Yes."

"Can you please name those relatives and the degree of their relationship to Mr. Potter?"

"Sirius Black (his third cousin on his father's side and legal godfather), Andromeda Tonks (forth cousin through both his father and godfather), and myself (second cousin through marriage on his father's side). There are others but they would have been denied based upon allegations and criminal charges."

"So, you are saying that there were at least three families, with wizarding ties, that could have raised young Mr. Potter in place of his muggle relatives?"

"That is correct."

"No further questions."

"Mr. Matheson, can you please state for the courts your magical heritage?" Delores simpered with a malicious grin as she rose up from her chair.

"I am a squib," Trevor calmly replied. They'd expected Umbridge to take this line of questioning and he was more than prepared to handle it.

"And were you raised in a wizarding household, Mr. Matheson?"

"Yes."

Delores seemed a bit taken aback by his answer; it was obvious she wasn't as informed of his background as she thought she was. She cleared her throat and changed tracks. "Hem, hem. Where did you receive your education?"

"I learned wizarding traditions from my mother and later earned several degrees, including my Juris Doctorate, from Oxford University."

"And do you live in the wizarding world, Mr. Matheson?"

"No."

"Could you please tell the courts why you do not live in our world?"

"I was shunned by the wizarding world, disowned by my family, and set out on the streets by my eleventh birthday. The wizarding world did not want me so I entered the muggle world where I made a name for myself without having to suffer the indignities foisted upon those squibs that remain in the magical world, scraping a living from on the edges of society."

"So you grew up bitter, hating the magical world that threw you out?"

"No, I grew up with a burning desire to prove that I could do well without magic."

"But you still resent the wizards and witches who turned their backs on you enough to shun our world."

"No, I married a witch after finishing my Juris Doctorate. We lived in both worlds."

"Than why do you not live in both worlds now?"

"Because the wizarding world didn't care that my wife was murdered by terrorists that were citizens of the wizarding world. In the eyes of the law, I was a squib therefore my right to justice on behalf of my wife was of no consequence."

"So you turned your back on your heritage."

"Objection, your honor, the defense is badgering the witness."

"Objection sustained."

"How much contact did you have with the wizarding world after your wife's death?" Umbridge asked with a pained smile at the warning glance Ogden sent her way.

"Daily."

"Can you explain?"

"I began researching wizarding laws, spending fifty percent of my time in the Records and Law Departments of the Ministry."

"Why bother, if you didn't wish to live in the wizarding world?"

"Because I wanted and still want justice, I felt that no person should be denied due process of law regardless of their blood status or lifestyle."

Seeing that Trevor wasn't falling into any of her emotional traps regarding his background, Delores changed directions once again.

"You listed only a small number of Harry's relatives, why?"

"Those are, or were, the only people available that qualified to take care of Mr. Potter."

"How is it that Sirius Black, convicted mass murderer, qualifies and yet, the honorable Lucius Malfoy does not? Mr. Malfoy is after all, married to a cousin of Harry Potter's, just as you are."

"Sirius Black was not convicted of any crimes. He was denied a right to trial based upon the reports filed by those aurors that arrived at the scene of the crime and on the hearsay of Albus Dumbledore. Therefore he is being held in violation of Habeas Corpus for a period of close to four years. Mr. Malfoy on the other hand, has a conviction of criminal activity on his record and is only married to a fourth cousin. Both Narcissa and Bellatrix, though siblings of Andromeda, were never mentioned in the Legal Will and Last Testament of James and Lily Potter as a suitable guardian of their son, Harry James Potter. Bellatrix was also convicted of being a Death Eater after she was caught torturing Frank and Alice Longbottom. Narcissa is married to Lucius Malfoy, who as I mentioned earlier was never cleared of the charges that were filed against him."

"I'd like to point out that you are mistaken, Mr. Malfoy was never convicted of a crime."

"Wrong, Mr. Malfoy never sat for a trial in order to clear his name of the charges filed against him. The charges stand on his record and will remain on his record, by magical decree, until such time as Lucius Malfoy testifies under oath and truth serum to clear his name as required by the venerable body of the Wizengamot since the year eleven-forty-two. Mr. Malfoy declined giving said testimony after claiming he'd been placed under the Imperius Curse; while on the other hand Mr. Black was denied the opportunity and despite the newspaper articles printed was never formally charged with a crime."

Umbridge sputtered with barely concealed rage while Lucius Malfoy glared and fumed at Trevor. When it was clear that Delores would be asking no further questions, Trevor was allowed to leave the stand and return to his seat. When no witnesses from either side remained, Delores had not planned on providing any because she'd intended to just poke holes in the prosecution's testimonies; which she failed to do, the judge called for closing arguments.

Klouse stood and walked out into the center of the floor and turned in a full circle, letting his gaze fall on many of the faces both in the audience gallery and on the Wizengamot benches, his robes swirling out dramatically. "We have heard the testimony of several experts. We have learned that the only time a request for emancipation under the Rights of Ascension was when the child petitioning the courts grew up in a strictly muggle environment prior to entering Hogwarts. A condition, I might add, that would have applied in this case, if Mr. Potter had lived out the next six years in the hands of his relatives. Was his placement done to prevent Mr. Potter from obtaining his heritage? It would seem a plausible explanation."

"So, I ask you, members of the Wizengamot, to look beyond the age of our Plaintiff, Mr. Harry James Potter, and see the harsh truth; a young heir of an ancient family facing extinction. If you deny Mr. Potter his emancipation you deny him his heritage, for there are no appeals for the Rights of Ascension or the Pureblood Preservation Pact as they stand. Deny Mr. Potter now and you deny him for life and yet another venerable line of a well known family will have died on the floor of this courtroom. Mr. Potter…"

"Is nothing more than an arrogant fool and a bully just like his father. Acting upon childish whims and throwing tantrums just because he doesn't get his way," Snape interrupted as he pushed out of his seat waving his arms all around as he moved towards where Trevor was sitting. "He is nothing more than a foolish boy."

Outrage rained down on Severus Snape in the form of every minor hex and jinx known to irate witches and wizards. Snape was not protected by Dumbledore's authority in this courtroom and a number of those watching had been on the receiving end of Snape's vitriol at some point over the last four years for them to put up with the sullen potions master attacking their beloved hero.

By the time order had been restored, a good portion of those who had been sitting anywhere near Snape had been hit with a minimum of three curses. Snape was barely recognizable as human as he had so many horns, tentacles, vines, roots, and boils covering his body. Lucius Malfoy had also gotten hit with a number of curses and hexes; more than one or two individuals in the audience seeking revenge on the snobbish pureblood for real and perceived slights.

Once order was restored and the injured removed from the chambers, Klouse continued his speech (using the interruption to drive home his point); "That, ladies and gentlemen of the Wizengamot, is exactly the reason why I move to have young Mr. Potter emancipated. To protect him from those who would abuse him, from those who have never even met the child yet still accuse him of what? Of being human? Of having wants and desires? Does not every child deserve to feel loved? To know he will be taken care of and fed when he is hungry? Please, all I ask is that you grant Mr. Potter what is rightfully his under the law, so that he might be protected against slanderous lies and malicious attacks."

Umbridge stood next and gave a very short speech, "I ask you to not give in to the whims of madmen and spoiled children, honored members of the Wizengamot. He's just a spoiled child."

The members of the Wizengamot filed out into the side chamber and deliberated the matter for close to an hour. Trevor spent that time holding a hurried conference with Klouse, Jake, Moody, and Backbiter. When the room was called back to order, Leticia passed the still hidden Harry into Trevor's arms before they resumed their seats and waited for the verdict to be read.

"By the decree of the Wizengamot, with a vote of thirty-three to sixteen, a sixty-five percent majority, in favor of granting Harry James Potter his legal and physical emancipation as allowed by the Rights of Ascension and under the guidelines of the Pureblood Purity Pact. Mr. Potter will have from this moment up until exactly one week after his fifth birthday in which to present himself to the courts in order to be invested in his title by said courts."

"If the courts will allow it, Mr. Potter is available to appear before the courts at this moment, before we move onto the next case on the docket."

"Please have Mr. Potter present himself," Ogden agreed somewhat surprised.

The entire room went silent as Trevor stood up and allowed the blanket surrounding Harry to fall down to around the child's hips, revealing the small child to the crowd. More than one wail of pity and outrage rose at the site of the extremely tiny boy; the ravages of his suffering at the hands of his relatives blatantly obvious to even those in the far back of the room. The small black haired boy tucked his head against Trevor's shoulder nervously as Trevor approached the middle of the floor, still carrying Harry protectively.

"Mr. Matheson, could you please place the child on the floor so that he might approach us on his own?"

"I'm afraid that is impossible, your honor," Trevor refused respectfully, his voice loud enough to carry to the back of the room and still the voices of those who hadn't stopped fussing over the child's health. "Mr. Potter is not yet able to stand on his own due to his still healing injuries."

"I see… I suppose there's no harm in allowing you to hold him, let us proceed with the ceremony."

While Dumbledore fumed silently behind the barrister, the Wizengamot filled passed Harry one at a time and tapped the child on his head with their wands (those that had voted against the emancipation doing so with great reluctance), bestowing the permissions that grant the child status as a legal adult. The process would also give the child additional protections to prevent his status from being revoked except under special circumstances.

With each successive tap, pale blue sparks rained down upon him and danced through Harry's short hair, until they poured over the side and began covering his body. Trevor, because he was physically holding Harry, also became covered in the living magic. When the last member had returned to their seat, the entire body chanted out the ritualistic phrase that sealed the magic inside Harry (and Trevor by default).

"A capite ad calcem et a pedibus usque ad caput, a posse ad esse et ab hinc ad vitam aeternam, causarum justia et misericordia, de iure Corpus Juris Civilis annuo Harry James Potter, vox adultus canonicus. So mote it be."

The blue sparkles of magic flared brightly before turning silver and sinking into the skin of Harry and Trevor. Trevor shivered at the feeling of foreign magic settling inside of him, like fog settling on the bank of the Thames, coating everything inside of him with a burning mist that clung to his very being. Harry on the other hand whimpered and groaned before passing out completely.

Concerned, Trevor rushed the boy back over to Healer Weber who promptly scanned the child's vitals and pronounced him unconscious and magically drained. Jake then ran a scan over Trevor and frowned. He ran a second scan and shook his head before telling Trevor to pass Harry back to Leticia so he could scan him independently from Harry. Jake performed two additional scans and then told Trevor to come see him later that night.

"How is the boy?" Tiberius inquired, having left the bench when Harry collapsed.

"He's just exhausted; the ritual drained his unstable core further than anticipated. He should be just fine in the morning," Jake supplied while Lettie wrapped the boy back into the blanket and sat down next to Moody, who performed a scan of his own to see if the protective wards were still functioning on said blanket.

Ogden returned to his seat and the next case was presented, Potter versus Dursley. Klouse read his opening statement which was very similar to the one he used in the Muggle courts, and listened while Dumbledore stood in defense of the Dursleys and asked for understanding and compassion. He also reminded them that allowances should be made for guardians who only tried their best to teach their wards the proper behavior and suggested that Harry's condition might have been exaggerated by the boy (despite the visual evidence that his condition had not been exaggerated when he'd been revealed to the courtroom just minutes earlier).

The rest of the morning, and just about the entire afternoon, was spent viewing various memories as evidence against the Dursleys. These were the original memories of Leticia's from when Harry had visited her at the library, the memories of the extraction team, the memories taken from the medical staff that had tended to Harry when he was first taken to the hospital, and a few select memories from Harry of his years living with the Dursleys. All the memories were viewed by projection pensieve so that everyone in the court room could see the memories taking place. Many of those seated in the gallery became sick when they saw the cupboard that was Harry's room. Few eyes remained dry as the healers and doctors discussed the many injuries. More than one person watching the proceedings had to leave because they couldn't stomach watching any longer.

Around four o'clock Tiberius Ogden called for an end of the proceedings for the day, requesting all parties to return in two mornings' time so that the trial could proceed. It was the bitter end of a bitter day for the Defense but most especially for Albus Dumbledore as he was made to look the fool on more than one occasion and made to look the villain on even more. He was beginning to question the wisdom of his actions all those years before. Before he could completely give in to his doubts though, a voice in the back of his mind whispered that the life of one small boy was outweighed when compared to the survival of the wizarding world and sacrifices must be made for the Greater Good. By the time Albus Dumbledore reached his office high in one of the towers of Hogwarts, he was once again confident that only he held all the answers and that only he could know how best to serve the world. Any lingering doubts were crushed ruthlessly by what he called his Voice of Reason.

_June 24, 1985 5:30 PM_

While the various reporters who had attended the day's hearings were rushing off to their editors to have their articles prepped for the morning edition, Trevor guided Leticia into the center of the goblin contingent while Moody and several Aurors gathered round the entire group, escorted them off of Ministry property, and drove them to Diagon Alley in Ministry vehicles where they quickly disappeared into the depths of Gringotts. Instead of leading them down to the guest room where they'd been staying for the past week, they were led into a large, ceremonial chamber where a large group of finely dressed goblins waited for them. Backbiter hurried forward and held a private conversation with the shortest and most richly dressed goblin present before beckoning the humans forward where the group was introduced to Ragnok, the manager (and ruling war chief) of Gringotts' London branch.

Ragnok showed no interest in the group until mention was made of Harry Potter. Ragnok demanded at once to see the child who'd reportedly destroyed an entire rock cavern and shook the very foundations of the bank. Upon his first site of the still sleeping child, Ragnok curled his lips and hissed in disgust that one so weak should have caused such damage. Backbiter whispered hurriedly to Ragnok, explaining that the child had undergone the emancipation ritual of the wizards after the huge magical display in the caverns and had only been exhausted; not burnt out.

This information made Ragnok reconsider the child with considerably less hostility. He reached forward to brush aside the boy's hair so he could see the lightning bolt scar but stopped when Harry opened his eyes and just stared at him. After spending a few minutes locked in a staring contest with the not quite five year old, the esteemed manager burst out laughing to the shock and surprise of the humans. Backbiter was grinning ferociously to one side, a triumphant gleam in his eyes as he watched the scene while the other goblins all looked away and pretended not to notice their leader cackling in an ungoblinlike manner. Finally, when the diminutive goblin regained control of his emotions he began barking out orders in the guttural language of the goblins.

"We will perform the goblin Right of Ascension for Mr. Potter now," Backbiter announced.

"Wouldn't it be best to wait until he's recovered?" Healer Weber asked with concern.

"No, it is best to perform the Ritual of Rites when the wizard's power is at its weakest; otherwise a wizard's natural magic will fight the goblin magic creating a magical explosion that could kill all involved in the ceremony. That he is so young and has displayed an unnatural depth of magical reserves was worrisome to Senior Ragnok at first. The boy still has other reserves but they are protected and restrained by the recent ritual performed by your Wizengamot. Please, place the boy on the dais and remove his clothing, there will be a silver sheet to cover him with; leave no wizarding object of magic upon his person."

Leticia moved forward and reluctantly placed the sleeping child on the stone table in the center of the room. Trevor followed and helped strip the child down before placing the woven silver sheet over Harry's waist and thighs as instructed. When Trevor moved away from the table, as instructed by Backbiter, Harry's eyes flew open once more and he began to struggle and whimper, his green eyes searching out Trevor among those crowding near. The moment Trevor returned to his side, Harry relaxed and sank back down into unconsciousness.

Backbiter and Ragnok argued fiercely in gobbledygook for several minutes, both goblins gesticulating wildly as they bickered back and forth. "What is your relationship to this child?" Ragnok demanded of Trevor at one point while Backbiter chattered on seemingly unheeded.

"I am his legal guardian under Muggle Law and his second cousin by marriage through my late wife Grizela Paterson."

Ragnok turned back to the still talking Backbiter once he had his answer and picked up the argument once more. It took the two goblins another twenty minutes to settle whatever dispute they'd been trying to resolve and Trevor was instructed to stand above Harry's head and keep his hands on Harry's shoulders.

"You are wizard?" Ragnok asked.

"No, a squib. I was born with Thurkellian's Curse"

"Good, you will not disrupt the ritual then."

All of the goblins in the room, minus Backbiter and Ragnok, gathered around the dais and placed the butts of their spears on the floor and began banging out a rhythm. _Tap, tap, thump. Tap, tap, thump._ The sound echoed sharply in the round room, circling around and around until it was difficult to tell where the sound ended and the echo began. Just when the cacophony grew loud enough to hurt the ears, the goblins abruptly stopped and the echoes softened until they hovered just on the edge of consciousness while Ragnok dropped his fancy robes to reveal a shriveled and twisted body riddled with scars wearing nothing but a silver loin cloth.

The circle of goblins then turned on their heels, pulled their spears off the floor, and spun them horizontal. Half of the circle then pulled the shafts of their spears up flush against their stomach while the other half held them to their chests, creating a double barrier to separate those inside the circle from those outside. The entire group of guards then began to tap out the same rhythm with their booted heels, the sound resonating deeper and softer than when beat out with the spears butts.

Over the odd hum of the booted music, chanting could be heard as red and orange wisps of magic began collecting above the point where the dais sat. The magic danced and flickered, burning like flames in time to the thumps and taps of the goblin guards.

Inside the circle, Backbiter used a ceremonial knife to remove Trevor's robes that he'd been wearing, leaving the older man standing in a flimsy pair of boxers. Trevor flinched slightly as the knife grazed his back, leaving a bloody trail down his spine but otherwise did not move. Backbiter used a long, thin finger to wipe Trevor's blood from the knife and smear it across Harry's forehead. Harry's eyes flicked open for a moment but closed after seeing Trevor was still there with him.

Ragnok then took the knife from Backbiter and pierced the heel of Harry's right foot and smeared it across Trevor's face from his right temple to his left jaw. Harry's left heel was pierced next and the blood allowed to run freely until it reached a groove cut into the edge of the stone table. The blood, moved along by goblin magic flowed into the grove and soon formed a thin rectangular frame around Harry's small body.

Trevor was then instructed to place his forehead against Harry's as the goblins began chanting and twirling madly. In Trevor's mind it was sheer madness and reeked of the sacrificial offerings from the days of the druids. He said nothing though, for he suspected that the magic growing in the air around them would turn lethal should the bizarre ceremony be interrupted.

After what seemed to be a lifetime, Ragnok fell silent and walked up to Trevor where he stood leaning against Harry's head and placed a hand on the back of Trevor's head. Burning magic filled him briefly before passing down into Harry through his hands where they rested on the child's shoulders. Harry's magic reacted badly to the foreign invasion and a wave of blue burst out of the child and washed over everything inside of the circle, chilling everything it touched before it vanished the moment it brushed up against the protective goblin barrier being held in place by the circle of guards. A minute later, Ragnok released Trevor and his legs collapsed out from under him.

His knees had barely touched the floor before Backbiter grabbed hold of his arm and pulled him away from the dais before leaning down and whispering to him, "Your part is finished but you can not leave the circle. We must begin the inheritance ritual now and you will feel pain because you do not belong here."

"Then what did we just do?" Trevor gasped as he shivered against the cold stone floor.

"Blood adoption, of course, it was the only way to finish forging the connection between you and Mr. Potter. We can now safely sever that connection and forge a new one between Mr. Potter and his ancestors."

"Don't you have to have our permission to perform the adoption?"

"No, the bond already existed, we just formalized it."

"And if you can't sever that connection?"

"Then we all die – horribly and painfully; in a most messy explosion that will sink the entire bank."

"Cheers!" Trevor barked before he closed his eyes and fought to control the tremors that wracked his exhausted body. When he next opened his eyes, it was to see Ragnok painting runes on the back of Harry's hands, the top of his feet, and in the center of his chest using goblin blood. He shivered when Backbiter cut a shallow circle in the palm of Harry's left hand and a triangle in the left. Harry's arms were then crossed over his chest and Ragnok placed his hands on Harry's forehead and cried out once in gobbledygook. Goblin magic poured directly into Harry's body for a full minute before something went terribly wrong with the ritual.

A sound like the furious scream of a raging lion tore through the air and two arms of Harry's magic lashed out and lifted Ragnok and Backbiter by their throats into the air above the dais. A second wave of blue magic now mixed with green tumbled over the table and onto the floor where it splashed against the vulnerable backs of the circle of goblins, burning cloth, armor, and skin with each touch. The stone floor soon began smoking as the magic rolled over it, leaving a fine coating of stone dust in its wake. If the goblin guards were afraid or in pain, they didn't show it; their bodies having been frozen in place almost the instant the magic touched them. When the tidal wave of destructive magic reached Trevor, it split in half and flowed around him.

An ethereal figure formed from the green tinged portion of the magic and stood facing the now extremely pale pair of goblins wrapped firmly in the two fists of blue. The figure pointed one hand at the two dangling goblins and cried out harshly in Old Norse: "Þú munu ekki rífa þeirra fjölskylda í tveir."

"Fyrirgefa okkur! Við vilja hætta! Við vilja hætta!" The goblins cried out as one in return (the ancient guttural language a forerunner to modern day gobbledygook), their cries growing more frantic as the magic holding them tightened around them painfully.

"Þinn búpeningur munu vera vara-."

The blue arms of magic then brought the two goblins close together, gave them a firm shake before dropping them down on either side of Harry. The green figure nodded once before the visible magic burst into a millions points of light and began swirling through the circle, rushing round like a cyclone before it flowed back inside Harry's body until all that remained was a single arm of blue and green sparkling lights that tenderly brushed against Trevor's face before fading into nothing. Backbiter was the first to get back up on his feet and he swallowed thickly and rubbed at his bruised and slightly burnt throat before walking around the table to see if Ragnok was okay.

The rest of the inheritance ceremony passed without incident as Harry's magic was tied into that of the Potter Vaults and the bond between the child and his ancestors forged through goblin magic. There was a second moment of concern when a small river of Harry's blue magic combined with the red magic of the goblin, causing the circle to be bathed in a deep indigo as the link between Harry and his ancestor's finalized. The moment quickly passed though when it became obvious that the magic was not causing any harm.

As the final strands of wild magics faded completely, the circle of goblins that had contained the magic to the area around the dais sank to the floor with moans of pain as their backs burned from the magical backlash of the failed severing ceremony. Those who had only witnessed a portion of the rituals from outside the circle could only gape at the site of the burned and blackened floor surrounding the dais.

Leticia was the first one to bolt between the fallen goblin soldiers, her sights set on the still pulsing and glowing form of Harry where he lay on the partially burnt table. Jake followed her a full minute later, stopping on his way to run a scan on the obviously hurting goblins that had absorbed the brunt of the magical backlash. None of them had suffered any life threatening injuries, thankfully, just magical burns that would leave some scarring behind; something the soldiers would later say bound them closer together as clan and warriors. Scars that they would wear proudly.

Jake next scanned Harry, who still only appeared to be magically exhausted. It was puzzling, Jake, as a wizard trained in the healing arts, had felt the amount of magic that had filled the cavern only minutes earlier. Even though he'd been separated from said magic by a barrier of goblin magic, he could tell it was very similar in nature to the magic unleashed by Harry that morning when the child had been distraught. There was no way his tiny body, still just recovering from his ordeal and near death at the hands of the Dursleys, should have been able to produce that much magic; let alone produce it twice in one day! It was puzzling from a magical standpoint but concerning from a medical point of view because of the potential danger it could represent to Harry and those around him.

Leaving Harry in the capable hands of Leticia, now that she'd been assured the boy would be fine, Jake turned his attention to Trevor where he lay almost frozen on the floor. A quick scan of the middle aged lawyer revealed that the anomalies present during the earlier scans had disappeared. His condition was fairly normal, for the Thurkellian Cursed man, with more than a small hint of wild magic floating through his system but that could be attributed to the part he played in the rituals.

"Trevor? Trev? Can you hear me? Can you tell me what happened?" A nod followed by several shakes of the head were the only responses Trevor gave him before the man passed out completely from exhaustion.

The healer sat back on his heels and frowned before conjuring a sheet to cover Trevor's near nakedness and levitating the man as a new group of goblin guards escorted the humans out of the ceremonial chambers and down into a new guest room; the previous room they'd been using still in shambles.

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> _Please forgive my butchering of the Latin and Icelandic languages as I've never formally studied either and have enough trouble with the English language. If anyone feels to need to correct my grammar, I'll be more than happy to repair what I killed here. lol. Here's what I was going for…_

** _English translation of the Latin Chant by Wizengamot:_

From head to heel and from feet to head, from possibility to actuality and from here on for all time; for the causes of justice and mercy, according to law this body of civil law grants Harry James Potter, legal (lawful) power as an adult. So be it.

** _Icelandic/Old Norse:_

Þú munu ekki rífa þeirra fjölskylda í tveir. – You shall not rend (split) this family in two.

Fyrirgefa okkur! Við vilja hætta! Við vilja hætta! – Forgive us! We will cease! We will cease!

Þinn búpeningur munu vera vara. – Your lives shall be spared.

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><p><em>I'd also like to apologize for a lack of real detail in the courtroom scene; I'm not good at writing out those parts though I did at least try. I'm also not very good at writing Umbridge which was one of the reasons she didn't cross examine more of the witnesses. I also need to go back and fix a bit of the courtroom scene in the previous chapter to change 'The People' to 'The Crown' as one of my reviewers so kindly pointed out; I'll be the first person to admit that my American heritage influenced me on that and I didn't even think of how odd it would be in a British court until it was pointed out to me. I'll have that fixed when I upload the next chapter. <em>

_On Harry's accidental magic… there are two reasons why I've seemingly given Harry's magic a life of its own and there was a hint of what was wrong a couple of chapters ago when Jake made mention of the core anomalies he found when Harry was first rescued. It is also tied into the ritual that the Future's Harry used to send Kreacher back but I can't say anything further without giving away plot points which will be coming up halfway through the sequel. I didn't even want to say that much but I felt it important to say something because I know it will bug people if I don't. _

_And I have to say my favorite part of this chapter was cursing Snape and using his outburst against both him and the Wizengamot to award Harry his emancipation. I love hexing Snape. I don't do it nearly often enough though. We also see the first hint that something is not quite right with our illustrious headmaster. There's also finally been mention of Sirius, I know some of you had been asking what I planned for our favorite mutt and there will be more coming up dealing with him now that his status has been revealed. There was something else I had planned to mention but I'm having a blonde moment and can't think of what it is... oh-well if I remember I'll put it in the next chapter's AN.  
><em>

_Anywho… hope you enjoyed the chapter… will be posting chapter ten tomorrow. ~ Jenn_


	10. Catastrophic Upsets

**Disclaimer: **_All HP characters are the property of JKR, the WB, and respective publishing companies - this is nothing more than a simple FanFiction that I have written. I have made no money from this or any of the other stories I have posted on this or other sites._

**AN:** _Story beta'd by my R/L daughter Sillyhobbit_.

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><p><em><strong><span>Chapter 10: Catastrophic Upsets<span>**_

_June 25, 1985 All Day_

Far beneath the streets and subways of London, deep within the roughly hewn caverns of the goblin nation; Harry Potter snuggled instinctively into the arms of Leticia Hall. Harry was still sleeping off the effects of the previous day's events. Jake had run several diagnostic tests on Harry's magic while the boy slept but still could not determine where his excess magical reserves had come from (though he suspected the goblins knew more than they were saying because of the comment Backbiter had made regarding reserves that were supposed to have been bound and inaccessible during the ritual). Trevor, Ragnok, and Backbiter had all been sleeping off the effects of the rituals and had been unable to comment or offer any opinions on the matter either, which left Jake wondering just what the hell happened.

Lettie wasn't sure what to think. Ever since the day she'd stormed into Trevor's office demanding answers, her life had been turned upside down and shaken roughly. Each day only added to her confusion. The only constant had been the needs of one small little boy, which she strove to fulfill in anyway she could. If not for focusing on Harry's needs, she might have run screaming in terror from some of the violence she'd witnessed first hand.

While those below the ground recovered those above the ground panicked. Riots broke out in the streets every where. The Ministry was in shambles as Fudge was called all sorts of names the nicest of which labeled him a barnacle from the nether regions of a cesspool dwelling kappa. Cornelius's predecessor, Millicent Bagnold, suffered the same fate as she'd been in office at the time that Harry was placed with his relatives. Rita and her compatriots had done a thorough job splashing the details of the two cases presented to the Wizengamot the previous day. Captured quotes, hypothesized extrapolations regarding evidence that had been presented, conjecture about testimonies and motives, and above all the heartrending photos of the tiny child hero.

Dumbledore's image took a thrashing like he couldn't believe. He was painted in the worst light possible; especially over the news that he had been the one to place Harry with his family and that he had attempted to defend the Dursleys during the opening portions of the trail against them. He knew eventually he'd be able to put the entire mess behind him but only if new revelations never came to light. Any more strikes against his once unblemished family name and he might well see himself without a job as well as being virtually penniless. (Since the goblins had confiscated his fortune to pay compensation for Matheson's abduction and the fees Gringotts had attached for trying to use them as executioners against their will and the law).

In the mean time; the Daily Prophet, the London Archives, Witch Weekly, the Quibbler, and a dozen other British newspapers carried big, bold headlines that continued to incite the public hourly. Headlines such as…

_**HONORABLE HEADMASTER or SENILE OLD MAN?  
>MINISTRY OF MAGIC or MINISTRY OF MANIPULATION?<br>A HERO'S TRAGIC TALE!  
>THE BRUTAL TRUTH OF ABUSE!<br>CHILD HERO BECOMES A MAN – BY ORDER OF WIZENGAMOT!  
>RUMORS OF LINE THEFT ABOUND<br>THE-BOY-WHO-LIVED BECOMES EMANCIPATED BEFORE AGE 5!  
>DUMBLEDORE PLACES HERO CHILD WITH ABUSIVE RELATIVES<strong>_

Thankfully, for now, none of the articles had yet been published outside of the country but the internalization of a scandal this huge could not last forever. In fact, visiting witches and wizards from across the channel were already owling clippings of the articles back to their friends and families. By the time the magical trial of the Dursleys resumed once more, hundreds of newspapers from around the world will have picked up the stories and sent reporters to England in the hopes of having their own first hand accounts for their subscribers before the next edition.

Albus Dumbledore couldn't be bothered with what the world did or did not care right this minute though. No. He was too busy waiting for the arrival of the people he considered his best and greatest friends. Those people who had fought at his side during the rise and fall of Voldemort. The Order of the Phoenix. He was angry at many of them, so very angry with them. Minerva had testified against him! _Him_! The hailed Leader of the Light for the last forty years! And she _dared_! Alastor had been the first to betray him though, walking in through the courtroom doors, escorting that… that troublesome muggle into the room so that she might testify against him.

Him, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore the First, defeater of the Dark Lord Grindelwald, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, Order of Merlin, First Class, and Grand Sorcerer; the greatest wizard of the age. How dare they besmirch his name? How dare they take a stand against him before the Wizengamot? How dare they not follow his orders of staying out of the court? How dare they not grab the boy and bring him to Hogwarts as they had been ordered?

He'd be waiting a long time for his followers to appear. In fact, he'd be waiting until the end of time at this point because the members of his Order were extremely unhappy with him over the revelations regarding one tiny abused hero. The one member who would have joined him was currently sitting in a room in St. Mungo's Hospital waiting for the healers to remove or counter the numerous hexes, jinxes, and curses he'd been hit with after insulting little Harry Potter.

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><p>Severus Snape was more than a little put out that he'd been forced to remain at St. Mungo's overnight in order to repair or reverse the multitude of spell damage he'd received as a result of publicly insulting Harry Potter. He, of course, blamed the entire incident on Harry and vowed revenge; never knowing that as he ranted and raved he was insulting James Potter instead of Harry because in his mind they were one and the same. He couldn't even separate the two in his thoughts and he'd never get over what he considered his unfair treatment at the hands of Potter, Black, and Lupin (and to a lesser extent Pettigrew) during their years in school together. Never mind that he'd instigated a good eighty percent of said incidents by attacking or insulting the Marauder's or helpless first and second years first, oh no, in Severus's mind he was completely blameless.<p>

This attitude was being encouraged by Dumbledore's blind trust in the bitter potion master, especially when Dumbledore defended the surly man to the other faculty and governors without bothering to investigate the accusations that were leveled against the former Death Eater. Severus's only fault, in Dumbledore's mind, was that he'd made a mistake when he was younger. And Severus had supposedly atoned for his mistake, so therefore he was now above reproach.

So, because he thought himself unable to do wrong because he atoned for his mistakes in the eyes of one senile old man (not that Snape truly felt any remorse for the things he had done), Severus Snape sat plotting his revenge against one tiny boy; plans that would involve the father of his godson in an effort to take control of said boy so that Severus could forever show Potter how pathetic he really was by showing him how much better Draco, his godson, was at everything. Forcing Potter to suffer the humility that Snape had suffered at his hands ten times over. Draco would surely put Potter in his place simply by being the superior pureblood that he was. Lucius would most likely enjoy the additional power and prestige as well, not to mention revenge for having his name run through the mud during the brat's farce of an emancipation trial.

During Severus's plotting, he never once gave thought to the possibility that the boy might have been granted said emancipation. He and Lucius, after all, had been removed before the verdict had been read due to the uncalled for (in their minds) attack by those seated in the viewing galleries (Lucius having been one of those seated far too close to Snape when the other wizard was attacked which had given more than one of his enemies the chance to get a hex or two in without repercussions). Unfortunately, Lucius was too angry to bother to checking Severus's facts regarding the outcome of the trial and readily agreed to help the bitter professor in his quest for revenge.

In fact, Lucius Malfoy was livid. He was far angrier than Severus Snape. His reputation was on the line all because of one little brat. If not for the Potter brat, his lord and master would be ruling the wizarding world and a good portion of the muggle world would have been exterminated by now. If not for the Potter brat, he'd be rubbing elbows with the Minister right now preparing the next restrictive law against some species or other. If not for the Potter brat, his son's godfather (one Severus Snape) would have never made such a fool of himself in front of the entire Wizengamot and the wretched boy's fan club by insulting the pathetic whelp.

Lucius would love nothing more than to hunt down the last remaining Potter and squeeze the life out of him with his bare hands. The eldest Malfoy refused to give in to what he termed his primitive urges though (lowering himself to kill someone with his bare hands when magic wouldn't dirty his hands in his mind); he knew Severus's suggestion would be far more satisfactory. Severus was, in Lucius's mind, the epitome of a perfect Slytherin, after himself of course, and had come up with the perfect plan to bring the spoiled wizarding hero down a peg or two.

All he needed to do was get within ten feet of the annoying boy and complete the ritual and all his troubles would be at an end. He'd be able to turn the boy into the perfect servant and if the Dark Lord ever returned, he'd be able to hand him the Potter brat on a silver platter.

Lucius grinned maliciously, his eyes glittering with malice as he daydreamed over the imagined fate of one small boy.

* * *

><p>Amelia Bones was frustrated beyond words. She was angrier than a hornet's nest as well. The trial from the day before had turned into a three-ring circus due to the antics of one Delores Umbridge. Not that Dumbledore's Death Eater on a leash didn't do a good job of mucking things up, for the blasted man had shown himself to be vile and cowardly when he verbally insulted the poor child. Of course, little Potter's adoring fans took offense and handled the matters before the acting Chief Warlock could restore order.<p>

That wasn't what was really bothering the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement though. No. She was far more concerned with the implications Trevor had hinted at during his testimony at the hands of Delores Umbridge. Two wizards, both from wealthy dark families, suffered two entirely different fates due to more than a few slight of hand tricks by Millicent Bagnold, Cornelius Fudge, Barty Crouch Sr., and Albus Dumbledore. Both wizards had the money to pay out enough bribes to pull strings in order to avoid ending up in prison but only one of them had done so.

Why would Black not even attempt to pay his way out of prison? Was he as insane as the papers had formerly claimed him to be? Was he truly devoted to the former Dark Lord? Could his estrangement from his family have been a hoax?

Those were just a few of the questions running through her mind as she stared down at the two files in front of her. Trevor had been one hundred percent correct in when he stated that neither wizard had sat for a formal trial before the Wizengamot. In both cases, Dumbledore had been the one to deny or waive the need for a trial with circumstantial evidence. In Black's case, it was the supposed knowledge that Black had been the Potter's secret keeper. In Malfoy's, it was Dumbledore's word that Snape had seen He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named use the Imperius Curse on Lucius.

Was Snape protecting the man who'd mentored and paid his way through the potions academy so that he could attain his mastery? Did Snape string Dumbledore along with the information? Did Dumbledore even get that information from Snape? What were Dumbledore's motives for protecting one man over the other? Did it have anything to do with the vigilante group that Dumbledore had organized to fight against You-Know-Who during the war? Who all had been a part of that group? McGonagall? Moody? Snape? Could one of them give her the answers she needed about Black?

It all boiled down to two questions though. Was Black guilty of the crimes he'd been imprisoned for? And was Malfoy a Death Eater that had been allowed to walk free because he could afford to pay off a few officials?

_And what am I going to do about it?_ Amelia asked herself as she stared out the magical window in her office.

* * *

><p>Bartemius Crouch Sr. stared at the immobile body of his only son, Bartemius Crouch Jr. His heart ached as he looked down upon the person who, in his mind, had besmirched the good name of Crouch four years earlier. He'd once loved his son more than anything in life but as the boy grew older and began showing the signs of insanity that ran through the Black family, Barty Sr. had began drawing away from the boy. He'd hoped that by being stern with the rebelling teen that he'd instill some sort of strong moral code within the dark heart of the Black blood line, but it was obvious he'd failed.<p>

He cursed again the fact that his father, the late Casper Crouch, had married Charis Black in the early forties. That one act had doomed the Crouch line to extinction. Barty Sr. never saw the darkness in his own heart though, for he never considered his ruthless nature to be dark because he firmly believed he fought on the side of light. It had been his actions that allowed the aurors to use the unforgivables on Death Eaters during the war though. His cruel streak that saw many supposed Death Eaters locked away in Azkaban for the rest of their natural born lives.

It was also the madness in his heart that allowed him to give in to his wife's dying request. He believed that his son had received a sentence far too lenient for the betrayal of his family. He firmly believed that having his son under his own roof would allow the boy to suffer a punishment far worse than any Azkaban could dish out.

Now, he stood on a knife's edge as he stared down at the son he'd once loved. Amelia Bones had begun digging far too deeply into the events that had occurred immediately after the fall of the Dark Lord. The woman was far more stubborn and dedicated to justice than Crouch himself had been; it was one of the reasons why she'd been elected to take his place after he'd been shuffled out of Law Enforcement and into the offices of International Cooperation. He'd mentored her, as had Mad-Eye, for more than a few years before the end of the war, and he knew she'd dig far deeper than he wanted her to into his home life.

He knew, even in his fractured sanity, if she found his son alive and here in his house, that he'd be given a one way ticket to Azkaban where he'd die the same lonely death his wife had suffered shortly after switching places with her son. At his feet was the sobbing form of a distraught house elf. The elf had begged him not to harm the young master but had obediently ceased when he'd ordered her to shut up. Raising his wand, he pointed it at his son and harshly hissed the two words that would, in his tortured mind, cure all his problems.

A beam of green light engulfed his son and the house elf wailed loudly until she passed out from a lack of oxygen. Barty Crouch Sr. then transfigured the body that had once been his son into a small doll and carried him out to a hole that had been dug in the back garden. He tossed the doll into the hole and used magic to pour a concrete cover over the doll, in order to prevent Moody's eye from seeing the small figure, and kicked the loose dirt back into the hole before replanting his wife's old tulips over top of the unmarked grave.

His son would not be causing him any more problems now.

* * *

><p>Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of the Keys and Grounds of Hogwarts finished off the dredges from the bottom of the tankard he held in his fist and wailed loudly, his ragged voice startling a small boarhound puppy that had been dozing at his feet. Outside, three more young canine voices howled along with the giant of a man.<p>

"S'all my fault!" Hagrid moaned pitifully as he sploshed another generous helping of Ogden's finest into his extra large mug and gulped it down recklessly.

Hagrid had been drinking steadily, and heavily, since the arrival of the morning paper. Up until that day, he'd been staunchly defending Professor Dumbledore against anyone who dared say a bad word against the venerable Headmaster. Hagrid had always worshiped the older man after he'd stood up for Hagrid when he'd been accused of Myrtle's death in nineteen-forty-three.

How his rose colored glasses had been brutally destroyed that morning though, when he learned that his mentor and idol had truly abandoned the son of his friends to his abusive relatives. The revelation had turned his entire world upside down and he was having more than a little bit of trouble coming to terms with his shattered beliefs. It made him question Dumbledore's role in his own tragic story. _Did Dumbledore really do all he could to clear Hagrid's name?_ _Was it all just an honest mistake?_

Hagrid didn't know. He wasn't sure if he really wanted to know. So he drowned his sorrows in one of the most powerful alcohols known to wizardkind and cried out his heartache over his participation in delivering an innocent babe into the hands of the vilest people on earth.

HR

Delores Umbridge was fuming. That foul squib had made a mockery of her beloved Minister the previous day. She longed to silence his traitorous mouth but lacked any information on the beast's whereabouts. She also entertained the thoughts of silencing the wretched Potter brat too; before the half-breed gained enough political clout to unseat Fudge.

Too many people loved the horrible little wretch in her mind. Too many of his adoring fans would go to any lengths to protect the brat's image at this point. _If only,_ she thought to herself, _there was some way to turn the public against him. If he was older, I could convince the people he was insane or dark but he's far too young and is pitied far too much by the people right now for that to work in our favor. _

Growling aloud, she paced back and forth in her office as he pondered what steps she could take to ensure her beloved boss retained what prestige and power he'd earned during the last five years. In her mind, the only good thing to come out of all of this mess was the fact that Dumbledore seemed to be suffering far more criticism and loss of face than the minister.

_Maybe I can use this to my advantage and help knock the old fool completely off his pedestal and raise Cornelius up that much higher._ Delores contemplated as she stared lovingly at the photo of Fudge that she kept on her desk. _The boy can always be dealt with the first time he does something out of line or tries to take a stance against Cornelius. Or, we could turn him to our side instead. We'd just have to get him away from the pestilent squib and then a young child like that would be putty in my hands._

"Oh yes," Delores murmured with her sickenly sweet little girl's voice. "He'll either do as I say or I'll silence him." She giggled childishly and clapped her hands at her devilishly perfect plans.

* * *

><p>Tom Doherty had inherited the management position of the Leaky Cauldron from his father back in nineteen sixty-three, when his father had passed away at the ripe old age of one-hundred-seventeen. He'd been running the Ministry owned pub and Diagon Alley gateway ever since. He loved playing barkeep for what he termed the British Wizarding World's Finest Gossip House. He did wish that his great-great-great grandmother had not sold the property to the Ministry of Magic in order to pay off her husband's gambling debts though, because it would have been nice to not have to report all of the current rumors to the minister's office.<p>

It was all part and parcel of being allowed to run the inn slash alehouse, at least his main contact was the Chief Warlock, Albus Dumbledore, but that didn't change the fact that he was viewed as nothing more than a well placed spy by most ministry workers in the know. The sad thing was that it was one hundred percent true. The rumors and moods of the public that he passed along were used by Dumbledore, and sometimes to Fudge, to gauge the climate of the general population in order to help the ministry prepare for minor rebellions and rising dark lords.

Today, his barroom hovered on a knife's edge as the customers debated heatedly about the validity of the most recent news articles in the various wizarding papers. He dared not leave the bar with the situation so volatile, though he desperately needed to inform the ministry of the rising panic of the masses. His presence was the only thing preventing the muttering masses from breaking into a riot on his floor though and he'd be damned if he'd let some unscrupulous mob destroy his bar and home.

So, he stood with a rag in hand, wiping down the already clean and polished counters of the bar and glared at those who dared scuffle in his establishment. He gave harsh warnings and harsher threats to each and every one who walked in with banishment if they so much as spilled a drop of mead in anger. A threat most patrons took seriously as his pub was the only entrance to Diagon Alley for the majority of witches and wizards; even the Floo access was inside his bar and not inside the alley. The only exception being for those witches and wizards that lived inside or owned buildings in the alley, who had their own methods of travel in and out of the Alley. This was a precaution established in the early thirties to prevent hostile takeovers of the alley by Grindelwald's followers and later Voldemort's Death Eaters. Not that it prevented either Dark Lord from terrorizing the magical shopping district; it just made them work that much harder to do so.

Anything that affected the alley, affected Tom though as he relied upon the witches and wizards passing through the bar for his day to day business and if they stopped coming to the alley, they stopped purchasing drinks and food. So it was that Tom vigilantly monitored the people moving in and out of his domain, listening in to each and every conversation, monitoring the rumors while trying to predict which way the public would turn if their tempers got the better of them.

His livelihood, and possibly his life, depended on him being ready for the worst in the event that his not so idle threats were ignored by the furious witches and wizards that were drinking copious amounts of alcohol. Drunken magicals were never fun to deal with but a roomful raging drunken magicals was a ticking time bomb that could be set off by the smallest incident.

It was going to be a long week.

* * *

><p>Rita Skeeter, Reputation Destroyer Extraordinaire, couldn't believe her luck. She'd stumbled into the offices of Samson, Matheson, and Carter on the heels of Severus Snape that night in the hopes of obtaining just enough evidence to write a few articles about the sanity of lawyers and squibs in general, as well as a few well aimed barbs against the Chief Warlock who always tried to thwart her when she attempted to write a book about Dumbledore's life, the history behind Grindelwald, the life of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, or the biography of the Boy-Who-Lived.<p>

What she eventually found was a veritable gold mine of evidence that could be used against any number of high ranking officials in the Ministry. She'd been furious at finding practically nothing inside the offices of the lawyers after Snape had taken what little there was to be found inside the mixed muggle and magical building and disappeared after abducting the squib. The lucky break came when the Aurors showed up not long after and she caught a ride back to the ministry where she was carried (in bug form) to one of the many hidden evidence locations. There, she'd picked up enough photos and testimony to lambaste Dumbledore and many others as well as paint the tragic life of the Boy-Who-Lived on the written canvas of the Daily Prophet and other papers.

The trial the day before had only added to her pile of evidence and the results were a good ten or fifteen articles published in this morning's Prophet under her name and her various aliases on top of the ones she'd written after first absconding with the evidence. Since she was contracted to the Prophet and only paid a commission by the article, she'd racked up a rather hefty paycheck with just a week's worth of work (not to mention the selling of the same said articles to other wizarding papers). She'd be living high for at least three years off what she made from the trial articles alone; and that was for just one day and pretty much one trial. If the rest of the trials turned out as much information, she'd be able to retire by the end of the month!

Not that she would, of course, because she loved breaking the reputations of the high and mighty far too much to ever walk away from her job. Her quill had killed an uncountable number of careers during the last six years and she planned to have at least another twenty years of the same before she even considered laying down her quill in favor of basking in her triumphs.

In the mean time, she began preparing follow up articles to today's headlines, new shakers for tomorrow's trial, and wondered if she could sell some of her current articles to foreign newspapers under one of her aliases in order to double the amount of money she'd already made on them. She also wondered if the little Potter would be making another appearance during the remaining portion of the Dursley's trial and if she could sneak into Gringotts where he was rumored to be staying.

* * *

><p>Alastor Moody had seen many horrible things in his lifetime as an Auror, yet nothing had prepared him for the viewing of the various memories of rescuing Harry Potter from his relative's house. He'd been fully prepared to go to Dumbledore the moment Amelia left his house that night but he'd been shell-shocked by those memories. He'd lost a lot of confidence in his old friend that night, enough to allow him to protect the child and any witnesses that would be testifying against the old codger.<p>

That was why he made no move to answer the patronus summons that Dumbledore had sent him to attend an emergency meeting at Hogwarts. He didn't even bothering listening to the entire message; he simply dispersed the silvery phoenix with a sharp jab of his wand followed by a swig from his hip flask. He would not be party to any plans made by Dumbledore to return the child to the abominations that were his relatives. His conscience wouldn't allow it, nor would his sense of duty and honor.

_Too many good people died during the war for children like Harry to grow up free of evil,_ Alastor growled silently to himself, _to even entertain the idea of sending a mere child into the arms of such abuse; let alone the child of Lily and James. What was Albus thinking!_

He knew it would only be a matter of time before Albus turned up at his house looking for him. Alastor had seen the angry glare Albus had sent his way when he walked in escorting the muggle witness. The grizzled old Auror didn't really care though, he felt safe within his wards and Dumbledore would be in for the shock of his life (literally) if he tried to cross said wards without Alastor's explicit permission.

Tomorrow would be soon enough to face his one time friend.

* * *

><p>She had been teaching for twenty-nine years now and Minerva had seen all kinds of children enter the castle with both high and low expectations. She was poignantly aware of those children that suffered any number of forms of abuse at home over the holidays. Each year there was at least one that she knew of and another three that she only suspected might have problems in the home. Very few of them ever allowed more than a close friend or two know of their situation and even then there was little opportunity to help the child in question.<p>

In the muggle world, she knew there were all sorts of laws and agencies that had been created in order to protect the muggle children in similar situations. In the wizarding world there were very few such laws and no agencies to perform the same services. Most witches and wizards just didn't see the need for such things; children were assets and heirs and were treated and raised according to tradition and custom though most of the older families using stricter methods than the younger, or newer, families. There were exceptions but those mainly occurred where the child in question was a squib or in mixed heritage families where one (or both) parents were muggles.

It broke her heart to see the empty eyes and stone faces of the children in less than loving homes but none of them moved her in quite the same way as what she'd learned of Harry Potter's life. James and Lily had both been caring individuals, though James had a mischievous streak a mile wide and the typical prejudices of one raised in a strictly Gryffindor house. He grew up admirably well before the end of his Hogwarts' years though, at the insistence of Lily Evans. The young couple had passion and drive during their time in the halls of Hogwarts that they'd applied to life once they finished their education.

To know that their child had been treated so abominably, by Lily's own sister, was more than Minerva could stand; especially considering the role she played in delivering the wee boy to his fate. It broke her heart to know she'd failed the young Potters and their little boy so horribly. All she could do now was to try and make it up to him as best she could. She'd already started by delivering vital information to someone who could do something about the boy's situation.

Testifying against her boss had been difficult; the loyalty oaths sworn by those who had been involved in the Order of the Phoenix during the Grindelwald Era made it difficult to go against Albus in most everything but she managed by keeping firm in her beliefs that her testimony was for the good of that same Order and her fellow members. Now she just had to ride out the waves and rebuff Albus should he attempt to scold her over her testimony of the previous day. Behind her, a silver phoenix burst into a cloud of white smoke as it hit the rune ward she'd placed around the four corners of her suite. She'd not be called to task for doing what she believed was right, not even by Albus Bloody Dumbledore.

* * *

><p>Cornelius Fudge was completely flustered. He had a steady stream of howlers pouring into his office exploding upon impact as they hit his desk with blinding flashes of red sparks and a rush of screams that called him all sorts of names. He couldn't understand how things had gotten so bad so quickly and his top two advisors, Lucius Malfoy and Albus Dumbledore, were not available to tell him what to do to fix everything.<p>

Fudge was not a stupid man, though a good number of witches and wizards he worked with would disagree with that statement vehemently. He was very knowledgeable about wizarding history and brown nosing but he had no real head for politics. He was also very good at holding grudges and taking advantage of unexpected windfalls, which is how he ended up as Minister of Magic after Bagnold retired just a few months earlier.

Lucius had helped put him in the Minister's chair, funding the rather short campaign under the table, with Dumbledore silently backing him by refusing to run. It was far easier job then it had been previously, not to mention the life expectancy of a Minister had grown by leaps and bounds after You-Know-Who had been taken down and his Death Eaters had been dispersed. There was also the fact that it paid extremely well both over and under the table. He had fully expected the next few years he spent in office to be relatively peaceful with nothing more to do than pass a few laws, kiss a few babies, and donate a few galleons to various charities. He was nowhere near ready or well equipped enough to handle public mobs descending upon the ministry building and hourly riots breaking out all over the place.

And worse yet, he had no one to turn to for advice so that he could fix the problems. Lucius was still in St. Mungo's (recovering from the spillover he'd gotten from sitting so close to Snape) and Dumbledore was not answering his Floo or any owls that were sent. His only saving grace was the fact that he'd only just taken office earlier this year. Most of the articles attacking the Ministry were focused on Millicent Bagnold who'd been his predecessor. If he was not careful though, he'd be out of the office before the end of the summer, if not the year, which would make him the shortest termed Minister since the Founding of the Ministry.

Little did he know that Delores Umbridge, his long time follower and mistress, would soon carry out a single act of violence that would see his administration crash and burn before the end of the month.

* * *

><p>Arthur and Molly Weasley had been following the news of the famous Boy-Who-Lived since that tragic Halloween night in nineteen-eighty-one. Molly especially, as she believed she owed the boy a life debt for destroying He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named before the vile dark lord could take over the Ministry of Magic. Molly's favorite, older twin brothers, Gideon and Fabian Prewett, had been murdered brutally by a group of Death Eaters during the war and had desperately feared for the life of the rest of her family.<p>

And while Molly knew of the Order of the Phoenix, she'd been too young at the time to be a part of the group; though her older brothers had often filled her in with informational tidbits about what was going on and had helped train her in Defense Against the Dark Arts so that she'd be better protected. She'd married her Arthur right out of Hogwarts and the two had started their family immediately, both more than a touch afraid that joining the Order would be a death sentence at the time.

She read her children stories about the Child Hero, expanding and embellishing what few facts had been known about the boy and the night he saved the world. By nineteen-eighty-five, all seven of her children were well and truly familiar with the orphan hero's life and could recite most nearly every factoid that had ever been published about Harry Potter. Ginevra, called Ginny by most of her family, in particular loved everything about the Boy-Who-Lived and considered him a knight in shining armor. The oldest boys, William and Charles, took the stories with a grain of salt; they were old enough to question the validity of an infant defeating a dark lord but young enough to see the child as somewhat of an idol.

The rest of the boys were more accepting of the Hero tales that Molly told her children but they were far more likely to become jealous about the praises their mother lavished on the mysterious child. Percival and Ronald most especially as those two didn't have the easygoing attitudes that the other four boys were blessed with. The twins on the other hand much preferred getting into trouble by digging into places they were not supposed to in place of listening to 'fairy tales' as they called the Potter Stories after hearing their brother Bill refer to them as such.

When the news broke about the abuses Harry Potter had suffered through, Molly and Ginny were distraught and horrified while all the boys pitied the small child and Percy in particular wondered why and how such a thing could have happened. Percy, even as a nine year old, worshiped authority figures and believed that rules should be followed to the letter. Arthur explained, as best he could, about how some people didn't make good choices and as a result they did bad things. Puzzled, and intrigued, Percy managed to get his father to promise to take him to the Ministry to watch the trials. Bill and Charlie tagged along as well, always thankful for an opportunity to get out of the crowded house for a while.

The four of them had found seats in the gallery, high up in the balconies, and watched in amazement as a not-quite five year old boy was awarded legal emancipation by the courts. The three young boys had cheered loudly when Snape (and Malfoy by default) had been hexed; Charlie and Bill especially as they'd both had Snape as a potions professor for a couple of years and didn't like the biased professor's method of teaching the class.

During the following trial, that of the Dursleys, Arthur had escorted his boys out of the room (over their loud protests) when the prosecution began playing the memories confirming the evidence of Potter's abuse at the hands of his relatives. All night long, Molly and Arthur discussed the case while the children listened in from the stairs. Both adults quickly agreeing that their children didn't need to know any more of the details.

Their plan was somewhat foiled the next day when Fred, or possibly George, nicked the Daily Prophet from the kitchen table after breakfast and Percy read the various articles aloud to his brothers and sister outside in the orchard. Later that night, Percy demanded to be allowed to go back to the trial saying that he wanted to find out what happened. He ended up going to bed without supper and a firm no.

* * *

><p>The woman threw the crumpled newspaper into the fire and stomped her foot as she swallowed a scream of frustration. <em>So close! <em>She growled to herself as she watched the parchment shrivel and turn to ash. She'd waited for years for her plans to come together and that stupid squib and pathetic lawyer friend of his had ruined everything! The woman swirled around and glared out her window as she contemplated how she was going to salvage things now that the boy had slipped through some pureblood crack.

After a few minutes, she smiled wickedly and began to cackle. She'd find a way to get to him once he reached Hogwarts, after all, Dumbledore would then be a position to do what he was supposed to have done five years ago and see to it that the entire line wiped out; the doddering old fool was such a nuisance at times.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong> _The chaos continues and we finally see some of the reactions of various individuals and the continued fallout. And yes, I know that according to the HP Lexicon Fudge didn't get into office until 1990, but it fit better to have him already in office during this FanFiction. So, that's why Bagnold doesn't make much of an appearance in this story. The next chapter will focus on what's happening with Harry and the others as well as bring in another much loved canon character. I'm almost finished fixing the problems in chapter 17 of Wizard's World with the help of my beta and hope to be able to post it tomorrow or Tuesday. (I swear my daughter is an evil task master when it comes to editing!) Anywho… hope y'all enjoyed the chapter! ~ Jenn_

_Chapter 8 was replaced in order to reflect the changes I'd mentioned I'd be making in the last chapter... there's no need to re-read that chapter though because it wasn't a huge change; just a minor correction.  
><em>


	11. Desperate Measures and Mistakes

**Disclaimer: **_All HP characters are the property of JKR, the WB, and respective publishing companies - this is nothing more than a simple FanFiction that I have written. I have made no money from this or any of the other stories I have posted on this or other sites._

**AN:** _Story beta'd by my R/L daughter Sillyhobbit_.

* * *

><p><em><strong><span>Chapter 11: Desperate Measures and Mistakes<span>**_

_June 25, 1985 2:45 PM_

"Isn't there anything else we can do?"

"No, the nutrient potions are designed to rebuild muscle tissue and the strengthening solution was only intended to reinforce what bone mass was already there. Even the Bone Knit wasn't repairing his bones the way it should have. You can't just make the damage disappear overnight, not all at once and have everything be just fine. It will take time and it will be painful but if it's not done he can expect to have severe problems before he reaches the age of sixteen; sooner if he does any strenuous activities such as running or flying. Can you imagine the amount of damage that would happen to brittle bones such as his if he were to fall from a broom?"

"But to vanish his bones one at a time and grow each one back individually with Skele-gro?" Trevor bit back, his eyes turning to find Harry as the small child looked at the moving pictures of real dragons with Leticia.

"I've already tried everything else, Trev, and his magic is helping where it can but it can't fix what is completely beyond repair. This is the only way left and it is the only one that can guarantee one hundred percent recovery. We'll spread his treatments out over the next year or two, focusing on one area at a time and giving him dreamless sleep during the treatments to help reduce the actual pain he feels."

"I just wish there was something else we could do. He's so young and he's been through so much already."

"Better to do it now, when his body and magic are young enough to recover fairly rapidly than to wait until his life depends upon having the procedure done at a greater risk of something going wrong."

"I know… but you get to explain the procedure to him," Trevor countered. "That means explaining just how much pain he can expect and why it needs to be done. I'll distract Leticia and take her up to the surface for a bit of fresh air." Jake nodded and the two men approached the bed where Harry was still watching the animated photos of dragons.

"Leticia, would you walk with me for a while? Jake needs to explain some things to Harry."

Harry watched nervously as Trevor and Leticia headed out of the cavern, his eyes turning slightly panicky the moment they were out of site.

"Harry?"

He turned to look at Jake, the healer looking extra solemn in the flickering lights of the cave. He wished Trevor at least could have stayed with him for whatever it was the healer wanted to discuss.

"We need to talk about your time at the Dursleys and discuss how to fix some of the damage done to your bones while you were living with them."

"No," Harry automatically replied with no little fear both from his refusal and the thought of what would happen to him if he spoke badly of the Dursleys; no small part of him still having trouble believing he'd never have to go back to his relatives.

"I'm not asking you to tell me about how they treated you, I'm not really asking you to tell me anything. All I'm asking is for you to listen to what I say. Can you do that?"

Harry shrugged and curled up on his side, his little fist closing around the cast iron dragon tightly as he reluctantly focused his eyes on Jake.

"Do you remember when I told you that it would take time to completely heal?" Jake asked, waiting for Harry's reluctant nod yes before continuing. "One of the bigger problems I am trying to fix, are the hairline fractures that cover nearly all the bones in your body. These fractures make your bones weak; so weak that if you tripped and fell there is a chance you could break one or more bones."

"Oh."

"Now, the real problem is that the potions I have been giving you to fix your bones are not working. That means there is far too much damage to the basic structure of the bones and we'll need to try something different. If we don't repair the damage, it will only get worse as you grow older and we don't want that."

"What are you going to do?" Harry asked tearfully as he trembled fearfully.

"I'd like to use a potion to grow you new bones," Jake stated slowly, measuring his words carefully as he sought to explain the concept to the magically uninformed child. "But to do that, we'd have to remove the bones first. You see, we would use magic to make a single bone or small group of bones disappear, and then you'd drink two potions. The first potion will be the one to make the new bone grow and the second one would make you sleep through the growing period. When you wake up the next day, you'll have brand new healthy bones where the sick and brittle bone was before."

"Why do I have to sleep? Will it hurt?"

"Yes, I'm afraid it does hurt to regrow the bones; mostly because your muscles, skin, and other tissues will be stretched and pulled while the bone forms. Sleeping through the process will help reduce how much pain you actually feel."

"It sounds scary."

"Yes, it does sound scary. I know grown men who are afraid of having their bones regrown. I tried my best to find another way to help you, unfortunately there's too much damage like I said. I can promise you this though, you won't be alone. Trevor or Leticia would be by your side through the entire process, and I would be there as well, making sure nothing goes wrong."

"H… ho… how long will it take?"

"A very long time, at least a full year if not longer. We will only do a few bones at a time, with you spending about a week in the magical hospital during the process and then taking a few weeks off before moving to the next group. That way you will have time to get used to the new bone structure and work on strengthening the muscles that are attached to those bones."

"Will I be able to walk again?"

"Yes, I believe you will be walking long before you finish regrowing your bones," Jake reassured.

"When?"

"I thought we could start tonight, after supper."

"Which bone?"

"We'd be doing a small group of bones, your toes on both feet tonight, a total of eighteen bones. Tomorrow we'd do an additional ten bones, the bones known as the proximal phalanxes that butt up against the toes. The next night we'd do ten more bones, the group known as the metatarsals, which would be the half way point. The remaining bones in your feet and ankles would be done over the following two days. After the five days are finished, you would spend two additional days in the hospital so that we could run a few tests to be sure everything grew back properly. We'd also make sure there was no lingering pain in the muscles surrounding the bones regrown."

"What about the people in purple dresses?"

"What people in purple dresses?"

"The ones that did all the yelling yesterday."

"Ah, you must be referring to the Wizengamot and the trials? Yes? Well, Trevor may need to speak with them again tomorrow but Leticia has already finished her testimony; so she would be the one to stay with you all through the night tonight and all day tomorrow. Trevor will visit as much as he can, I'm sure."

"Will my toes disappear completely?"

"No, your toe will go flat like a sock or a balloon with no air when the bone is vanished. That part won't hurt at all, so you'll be able to watch if you like."

"Can't we do all that here?"

"We don't really have everything we need here, and while we might be able to get the potions for you, the specialist who will be performing the procedures might not be able to come here as she has other patients to tend. That and the caves are a bit too damp and too cold to leave you uncovered during the night while the bones are regrowing."

"Will they stare at me there?"

Jake sighed and sat on the edge of Harry's bed, his expression filled with regret as he gazed down at the tiny child. "Yes, Harry, people will stare at you. It won't matter where you go, someone will always be staring at you because of who you are."

"How do they know me? Why do they see me when no one else did?"

"Part of the reason they see you now, is because the magic that was hiding you has been removed. If that magic had not been present, someone might have seen your suffering sooner. And there might not have been a need for you to have been hospitalized, especially not for as long as you were. As for how they know who you are? That is more complicated. I don't know what Trevor has told you but you are famous in the magical world for something that happened when you were just a baby. Don't forget that many people have seen your picture in the newspaper lately. That is why people stare."

"Can you make them stop?"

"No, unfortunately people will stare no matter what. It is better to try and ignore them if you can," Jake advised as he patted Harry's leg gently and climbed back to his feet. "Do you have any other questions? No? Then I will see you later tonight. Trevor should be returning soon."

_June 25, 1985 5:45 PM_

Trevor watched as Harry drank down the last of the broth from his vegetable soup. He couldn't help smiling at the small pout on Harry's face as a thin trail of liquid trickled down the child's chin and onto his hospital gown. "Would you like a bit more soup, Harry?"

Harry looked up from his bowl with a furrowed brow, his green eyes confused as he glanced at the serving bowl sitting beside Trevor and then back down at his empty bowl. After a moment he shook his head no and pushed his bowl away, his eyes filled with fear and trepidation as he nervously watched Trevor's every move.

Trevor just sighed and removed the empty bowl from the tray and replaced it with a small beaker of digestive potion and a vial of nutrient potion. "In that case, please drink your potions. Healer Weber will be here soon and the four of us will be heading to the hospital to begin your bone replacement procedure."

Harry obediently drank down both potions without complaint. He then sat watching Trevor fidget with the serving bowl for a few minutes, his little eyes flicking from Trevor's hands to the line of figurines that Lettie had given him the week before. "Sir? May I take my dragon with me?"

"Please, Harry, call me Trevor or Trev. We spend far too much time together for you to keep calling me sir."

"Yes, sir," Harry agreed with a nod. "May I?" He repeated as he held up the figure in question, his arm trembling and shaking with the effort.

"Yes, you may take your dragon," Trevor said as he bit back another sigh. Harry rarely ever used names, even his own, when addressing the adults he came into contact with. Trevor and Leticia had been trying to break him of the habit but had not yet had any success. _At least we've gotten him to feel comfortable enough to ask questions or tell us if he's in pain. What a nightmare the bone replacement procedures would be if he still refused to admit he was hurting, _Trevor thought to himself as he watched Harry cuddle his cast iron dragon.

Not long after that, Jake walked into the room with Leticia and a couple of goblin guards. Leticia was carrying a pale green robe, a dark green tunic, dark green trousers, a pair of underpants, and dark green socks in one arm. In her other hand she held a pair of pale green canvas slippers with hard rubber soles. Jake carried a matching dark green cloak over his shoulder.

"Look what I brought just for you, Harry," Leticia called out as she approached his bed. "I saw them and thought of your beautiful green eyes."

Harry's eyes bugged out in astonishment a bit as she sat down and displayed each article of clothing to him. Once the initial shock wore off, his brow furrowed and he glanced from the clothes to Leticia to Trevor and back to the clothes again. Slowly, he reached out and brushed a finger over the soft felt of the tunic before snatching his hand back as if it had been burned. "I'm not allowed."

Taking a deep breath in order to suppress his anger with the Dursleys, Trevor corrected him, "I asked Leticia to buy them for you, Harry. Remember what we talked about? You will never have to wear rags again; you deserve to wear nice clothes. You will never get in trouble from me for wearing warm, clean clothes that fit."

"Here, let me help you get them on, dearie," Leticia ordered gently as she shook out the underwear and slipped them over Harry's feet.

Harry turned bright red before fumbling for the top of the briefs so he could pull them up himself. Leticia allowed him to do some of it on his own but she had to do most of the work because his arms still didn't seem to want to work properly and his muscles tired rapidly. Next she helped his feet into the socks, pulling them up until they reached the bottom of his kneecaps. His pants went on next, with Trevor and Jake helping Harry support his weight while Leticia tied the laces in the front securely.

Trevor then pulled off the old hospital gown and tossed it on the foot of the gurney while Lettie pulled the tunic over Harry's head and helped him get his arms in the sleeves. The pale green robes were pulled on next and buckled securely at his waist; allowing the dark green of his tunic show through the gap. They fell to just above his ankles so he'd not trip over the unfamiliar garment when standing or trying to walk (not that he'd be walking any time soon). Lastly, Leticia put on the slipper-shoes while Jake secured the cloak over his shoulders.

When they finished, Trevor helped Harry to stand up in front of a tall mirror that Jake had conjured for the boy to see himself in. Harry's arms trembled as he ran them along the edges of the thick woolen cloak while he stared at the image in the mirror. His hair, while still short, stuck up every which way. His eyes seemed brighter as they stared back at him from out of a pale white face.

"Is that me?" Harry breathed in wonder. "I didn't know… I thought I'd look… different. Like a monster." The last was just a faint whisper as he reached up to touch his face. "I… I look normal… almost."

"Haven't you ever looked in a mirror before, Harry?" Jake asked as he striped Harry's bed and changed the sheets.

"No," Harry replied. "I wasn't allowed."

"I guess it would be hard to see yourself as normal if you couldn't see your reflection," Trevor stated as he bent down and lifted Harry up into his arms, being careful not to bunch the robes uncomfortably. "As you can see, you are a small handsome child, one who is as normal as they come. Except… well… truth be told you aren't just normal. You're special boy, son, a very special little boy."

Blushing again, Harry buried his face in Trevor's shoulder and wrapped his tiny arms around Trevor's neck. Trevor rubbed his back reassuringly as the group of four humans and two goblins exited from the guest cavern and climbed into one of the mine carts for a quick trip back up to the surface floor of the bank.

Once on the surface, the group exited the front doors of Gringotts and headed down the Alley in the direction of the Leaky Caldron. In the process they picked up a seventh individual in the form of a tiny, glittering beetle that wormed its way under the hood of Harry's cloak. Moving swiftly, for the goblin escort discouraged the people shopping from crowding around the smaller group when Harry's presence was noticed; they passed out of the Alley and into the pub. There, Jake took a minute to apply notice-me-not charms on the four of them as they said goodbye to their goblin escort.

Leaving the confines of the Leaky Cauldron the rest of the group walked down to the underground entrance at Piccadilly Circus, where they boarded a train headed towards Chancery Lane and St. Mungo's. The ride was fairly uneventful, thankfully, and the muggles paid them no attention due to the charms. Once back out under the stars; Jake led them down the street to the storefront of a department store called Purge and Dowse, Ltd. where he spoke to the manikin to open the entrance to the hospital.

Harry shivered a bit as they passed through the illusion of the glass window and looked around curiously as the waiting room materialized. Jake removed the charms and led the other three straight to a pair of doors behind the welcome witch. They would be using one of the private wards on the ground floor for Harry's procedures; in order to limit the number of curious visitors and other patients from popping in unexpectedly while Harry was in the hospital.

Once inside the reserved room, Rita (in her animagus form) slipped out from under Harry's cloak and flew up to one of the higher shelves where she could watch the proceedings without fear of being caught or sat upon. She was excited that her hunch had paid off so soon and looked forward to seeing what kind of juicy gossip she could wrestle up during whatever procedure the healers had planned for the young Potter scion.

A second healer, an older woman by the name of Felicity Stone, soon joined them carrying a box filled with numerous bottles, jars, and wooden blocks. She introduced herself to Trevor and Harry, passively ignoring Leticia who had moved herself into one of the far corners so as not to get in the way, before asking Trevor to place Harry on the hospital bed that was pushed up against the north wall of the room.

"Healer Weber, you still wish to begin the treatment at the feet?"

"Yes, Healer Stone."

"Very good, do you have the muggle images of his bones?"

"Yes, where would you like me to hang them?"

"Put them up on the wall behind his bed, so I can see them as I work. Don't forget to add a backlight, so I can see them clearly."

"Of course, Healer Stone."

"Ah, I see you weren't exaggerating the condition of the boy's bones. His entire skeleton you said? Tsk, pity, this will take at least a year, if we go as slowly as you plan to. Are you sure you don't want to decrease the time between sessions?"

"Positive, I think it best to give Mr. Potter as much time between sessions as possible so that he might adjust and heal completely before repeating the process. He's still on nutrient and strengthening potions for muscle growth, not to mention the occasional digestive solution to help repair his digestive tract. He's come a long way in recovery but he still has a ways to go and moving too quickly may set us back to square one inadvertently."

"Point taken, shall we begin?"

Trevor helped Harry remove his shoes and socks while the medi-witch stretched the fingers out on her wand hand. When his feet were bare, she pulled a jar of cream out of her box of potions and spread it over Harry's left foot, explaining that it would help keep his foot from getting too cold while it was uncovered all night. Next she had Jake take a firm hold of Harry's ankle before she began vanishing the toe bones on his foot one at a time, starting with the pinky toe.

Harry watched avidly, interested in seeing what a deflated toe might look like. Unfortunately, the site of his toes simply folding over made him feel more than a little queasy so he quickly closed his eyes and stopped watching. Trevor held his hand when he whimpered softly about not being able to feel his toes any more as the Healer vanished the bone in his big toe.

Seeing that he was becoming overly distraught, she handed Trevor a calming draught from out of her box of supplies and instructed the lawyer to give Harry two small sips in order to keep him from lashing out with accidental magic. Once Harry was calm enough, she asked Jake to hold Harry's right foot and began spreading more cream over the rest of his toes before vanishing those as well.

Healer Stone cast a few diagnostic spells over Harry's toes, to be sure there were no bone shards remaining, before she began strapping a pair of wooden blocks to the base of his feet. His limp toes were carefully tucked into a series of grooves that were roughly the shape of toes. Once they were in place, she pricked each toe and drew a single drop of blood that was placed on the top of the block directly over the toe it was drawn from. This would set the toe molds to the proper size for the expected growth of the new bones (to prevent the bones from growing back deformed).

Next she poured a thick potion over the tips of his toes until it filled the entire groove, explaining that it improved the elasticity of his skin so it didn't tear when the new bones grew into place. When she finished with that, she secured his blocked feet in place with a few well placed sticking charms to prevent him from pulling the blocks off as he slept.

"All that's left now is for him to drink his potions," Healer Stone announced as she pulled a dose of Skele-gro out of the box followed by a vial of Dreamless Sleep. She then looked right at Harry for the first time and stated firmly, "These potions taste horrible. I can't do anything about that. But regardless of how they taste, you have to drink every drop. If you don't drink all the Skele-gro the bones in your toes won't grow back completely and we'll have to start all over again. If you don't drink all of the sleeping potion, you'll wake up in the middle of the night in terrible pain. Understand?"

Harry nodded shakily as he sat up a bit to take the two doses of potions. Healer Stone seemed somewhat surprised when he swallowed both of the potions without spilling a single drop; something past adult patients of hers had been unable to do. She gave Harry a small, quick smile and gathered up her empty bottles and supplies before wishing Harry a good night's sleep.

Rita was alternating between elation for discovering the need for Harry Potter's bones to be completely regrown and nausea at the thought of the small boy suffering through a year's worth of bone regrowth treatments. In the end, she fluttered down and hitched a ride out of the room with Healer Stone just as Harry's eyes closed as the sleeping potion sent him into a deep sleep.

While Harry slept, word spread throughout the hospital that Harry Potter was in St. Mungo's receiving treatment as those who'd glimpsed his arrival gossiped with each other. Up on the fourth floor, in the Spell Damage ward, two former Death Eaters digested the news with glee as they moved their plans for revenge on the Boy-Who-Lived forward now that they knew where he could be found. Lucius would be released in two days, at which time he'd sneak down into Potter's room to cast a single spell. Snape would be released about the same time but would cause a diversion to draw off any potential witnesses. The two vile men shared an evil smirk as they settled back into their beds and dreamed of bringing the child hero to heel.

_June 26, 1985 4:31 AM_

Trevor woke up early and checked on Harry, who was still sleeping, before he gathered his coat and exited the room. Leticia, who'd been dozing on the other side of the room, woke up in time so see him leave; a puzzled expression on her face until she recalled that Trevor had to appear before the Wizengamot again today for the continuation of the Dursleys' magical trial. Scooting her chair closer to the bed, she gently pried Harry's dragon out of his hand and set it down here he'd see it the moment he opened his eyes before closing her hand around his.

The child had slept fitfully all night long, soft whimpers pouring forth from his throat as the bones in his toes grew back bit by bit while he slept. Lettie had studiously avoided glancing down at the reforming digits in an effort to avoid loosing her supper, though just thinking about it was enough to make her stomach churn uncomfortably. Knowing he'd have another four nights of the same wasn't helping either.

Jake and Healer Stone had visited periodically during the night, the two healers monitoring the progress of the bone growth and Harry's level of consciousness. Twice Jake had needed to give the waking boy sips of calming draught in order to get him to relax enough to fall back into a deeper sleep where the pain wouldn't bother him as much. Both times the child's magic had been mysteriously absent, something that seemed to puzzle the healers as most children Harry's age would lash out unconsciously if they experienced such pain in their sleep.

The oddity was shrugged off as unimportant though as they filled in notes and diagnostic reports on the growth progress of the bones. There'd only been one brief incident of skin tearing, when the big toe on Harry's right foot grew a half centimeter faster than the rest of the bones, but it was quickly repaired with a few well placed healing charms and a reapplication of the flexibility potion to avoid it happening a second time.

Overall, the night had passed pretty much as expected and the prognosis of continuing the next session of bone replacement as scheduled was looking good, though the short battery of tests scheduled to take place after breakfast would be the deciding factor on whether the procedure would go forward. The tests would check for nerve and tissue damage as well as missing or deformed bone fragments or splintering. Any lingering pain Harry was experiencing at that time would be treated with a tropical numbing paste as pain potions would ineffective due to the other potions lingering in his system.

_June 26, 1985 7:57 AM_

As the Wizengamot were filing into the court chambers for the continuation of the Dursley's trial, thousands of owls were winging their way through the country delivering the latest edition of the Daily Prophet to its many subscribers. Splashed across the front page of the controversial paper was a picture of a solemn faced Harry Potter watching the healer vanishing the bones of his toes. The headline and subsequent story turned many a witch's (and wizard's) stomach before the end of the day…

**BOY-WHO-LIVED FORCED TO UNDERGO TORTURE  
>TO HEAL DAMAGE CAUSED BY RELATIVES!<strong>

_**By Rita Skeeter**_

_In a private room within St. Mungo's, the wizarding world's newest little adult  
>bravely sat unflinching as Healer Strome vanished the bones in his feet, starting<br>with the toes. Mr. Potter will be spending the next week in the hospital regrowing  
>said bones – a most painful procedure as any adult or teenager whose had it<br>done will tell you. _

_Why is our boy hero undergoing such a risky operation? To repair the damage to  
>his bones of course! This reporter has it on good authority that Harry Potter will<br>need to regrow an entire skeleton before the end of the year! That's right folks,  
>every single bone in his body will need to be removed and regrown. Why? Who<br>would subject such a small child to such torture? Even if the boy is now a legal  
>adult, is it even remotely wise to make the lad suffer such unspeakable pain?<em>

_The truth is Mr. Potter has no choice. His bones were so damaged by malnutrition  
>that regular Bone Knit treatments failed to repair the damage. As you know, Harry<br>Potter suffered abuse and neglect at the hands of his supposed Muggle relatives  
>since the night he was placed with Durglies by Chief Warlock, Albus Dumbledore. <em>

_The question is, what was Dumbledore's motivation for placing our beloved hero  
>is such an environment? Was it his intention that the Boy-Who-Lived suffer his<br>young life at the hands of his Aunt and Uncle until he returned to the wizarding  
>world at age 11? Was Harry Potter meant to even live to age 11? Was the placement<br>of the child hero with his cruel relatives just a ploy for Dumbledore and the Ministry  
>to steal the vast fortunes of the Potter Family? <em>

_**To read more about the injuries Harry Potter suffered at the hands of his family,  
>see Page 3. For more information about the corruption of the ministry, see Page<br>6. For background information about the Durglies, go to page 12. To read more  
>of the manipulations of Albus Dumbledore see page 8.<strong> _

Those individuals sequestered in the courtroom would not read Skeeter's latest until after the first recess was called around eleven a.m. When the trial reconvened an hour later, the tension in the atmosphere would be thick enough to cut with a severing charm. Trevor and Klouse would later be seen having a private conference with Amelia Bones about a patient-healer confidentiality breach with regards to the somewhat accurate information in the article.

_June 26, 1985 2:08 PM_

High up on the fourth floor, in the Spell Damage Ward of St. Mungo's, the two Death Eaters continued to plot; both still completely unaware of Potter's new status in the world. Had they known about Potter's emancipation, they might have binned their plans and found another avenue for revenge. As it was, the Daily Prophet and other such newspapers had long since been banned from the hospital on health related grounds; due to the high levels of stress said newspapers generally produce on a daily basis. This was to protect the high-risk patients from reading disturbing news that could adversely affect their already delicate health.

Meanwhile, four floors below the plotting duo, Harry Potter was wiggling ten brand new toes that looked out of place on his tiny foot; for the new bones were approximately twice as big as his old toes had been. He'd felt some lingering pain earlier that morning but the numbing paste Healer Weber had smoothed over the improved toes took care of that.

The diagnostic scans had found a few miniscule tears in the muscles and surrounding ligaments but that was taken care of by his daily nutrient and strengthening potions by the time he ate lunch. After his meal, Jake had spent a good hour massaging the new toes and working with Harry on exercising the muscles around the newly grown bones one at a time as best he could, just bending and extending each toe to stretch out the muscles and tendons. A second application of numbing paste would prevent any renewed soreness from reappearing when they finished the physical therapy, allowing Harry to spend the rest of his afternoon playing with his dragon.

As he sat there, running his fingers over the dragon's wing between bouts of making the dragon fly a wobbly arch through the air, Harry began frowning as a few of his memories from the previous summer floated back to him as he listened to Leticia read aloud from a book titled _Treasure Island_, written by Robert Louis Stevenson. During one of her pauses between chapters, Harry dared to ask… "Do you know where my treasures are Ma'am?"

"Treasures?" Lettie asked, a bit caught off guard by the unexpected question. Marking the current page, she closed the book and focused on Harry as she tried to think back to what treasure he might be talking about. "Do you mean your other figures?"

"No," Harry countered as he shook his head. "My treasures. The funny little creature Kreacher left them for me."

"Creature creature?"

Harry nodded, "It left them for me in my room."

"Can you describe the treasures for me?"

"There was a pretty necklace that opened and had green glass on it, two thick yellow papers with squiggly lines, and a bag of presents for me," Harry replied in what was his second longest sentence to date.

"Thick yellow papers?"

"All folded up."

"Folded up, you mean like a letter? Like the letter you dropped the last time you came to the library?"

"I dropped one?" Harry gasped, his eyes tearing up as his jaw dropped. "I didn't mean to lose it, those were my only treasures." Sniffle. "I'd never had anything like them before, and now their gone!" The last word rose to a near wail that startled Leticia as she'd never really heard Harry raise his voice before.

"Calm down, Harry," Leticia urged, frightful of being caught in a magical storm without a witch, wizard, or goblin nearby to help. "They aren't lost. The letter you dropped, it was addressed to Trevor. That's how we found out who you were. I took it to him because I thought he was your father."

"My mummy and daddy died in a car crash," Harry whispered as he shrank back into his pillow and stared at Leticia. "My aunt said they were durk… drank… drunkards…"

"Oh, sweetie, I didn't know that when I first met you," Lettie murmured as she gently pulled Harry into a hug. "And I don't think they were drunkards or that they died in a car crash. Your aunt lied to you, Harry; she made up those stories about your parents. Unfortunately, they did die but not in a car crash. Trevor can explain it better than I can, because I didn't really understand the how or why. Trevor probably knows where your treasures are too, so please, don't cry love, shh, shh, shh."

Harry cried himself to sleep at that point and ended up napping until Healer Stone came in and woke him up to eat supper. After eating, this time he had a fairly bland barley soup, he took his potions silently as preparations began for his second round of bone regrowth. Trevor and Klouse arrived with Amelia Bones about the time Healer Stone was vanishing the bones in his right foot.

Wordlessly the trio took up stations around the room, Trevor at Harry's side and the other two in a corner out of the way, while the Healer ignored them as she strapped the blocks to Harry's feet again and added the potions. Once more she gave him the stern lecture about not spilling the potions and as before he swallowed both of the vile mixtures without a word. In fact, Harry hadn't said a single word since the scene that afternoon. He also wasn't really looking at anyone and when Trevor tried to hold his hand again, Harry tugged it free and half rolled away.

When Trevor opened his mouth to ask Harry what was wrong, Leticia shook her head no and pointed to the door. Trevor frowned at her for a full minute, before giving her a stiff nod and two of them slipped out the door after signaling to Amelia and Klouse to let them know they were stepping out for a moment. Just outside the door the pair ran into Alastor Moody, who'd been standing guard outside the room, and asked him to cast a privacy ward so the two of them could speak without being overheard.

Once they were somewhat secure, Trevor turned to Leticia and asked, "What happened?"

"I'm not exactly sure, one minute he was playing and listening to me reading _Treasure Island_, and the next he was asking where his treasures were. I thought at first he was talking about the rest of the figures I bought him, but he said that some 'creature creature' left them in his room for him."

"Creature creature? Creature? No, Kreacher the creature," Trevor muttered to himself as he pulled the old folded and bloodstained envelope from inside his robes. "He wouldn't know what a house elf was, so he'd think of it as a creature and this elf's name being so close. Did Harry mention this letter?"

"Yes, but he called it thick yellow paper. He said there were two of them as well as a bag of presents and a necklace with green glass. I immediately recalled one of the wizarding policemen saying that there were a few items that had been pulled from out of the cupboard where you found him and figured you'd know what happened to them. He didn't start shutting off until I told him he'd dropped that letter at the library though, he seemed horrified at the thought of losing it and then when I told him that I'd found it and given it to you; I think he felt betrayed, I don't think he understood who the letter was addressed to and he's not spoken a word to me since he woke up for supper after he'd cried himself to sleep."

By the time Leticia had finished explaining, her voice was trembling as if she was holding back tears. Trevor gave her shoulder a squeeze and whispered a few comforting words before the two of them returned to Harry's room in time to see him slip into a potion induced sleep. Trevor wished he could have spoken to the child before he'd taken the Dreamless Sleep but realized that would have been pointless and only cause Harry to feel the beginnings of pain as the Skele-gro began to take effect. Giving a mental shrug he seated Leticia beside Harry's bed and headed over to where Amelia and Klouse were interrogating the two healers.

"Have either one of you spoken of Harry's condition to the press?"

"No!" Healer Stone hissed indignantly while Jake simply raised an eyebrow and frowned in Amelia's direction; he'd worked with the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement enough for her to know he'd never speak to the media about a patient.

In response, Amelia shook out that morning's Prophet and let them skim through the article on the front page.

"They didn't do it Amelia," Trevor inserted as he walked up and waved the envelope he still held in his hand at her. "We've got to work out the _bugs_ in our defensive wards though."

Amelia gave Trevor a blank stare until she recalled the conversation the two of them had not too long ago about the illegal methods Rita used to obtain her story material. The moment she remembered, she got a feral grin on her face, apologized to the two healers, and immediately ran a scan of the room. When she got back negative results, there'd been no animagus in the room at that moment, she marched out the door and had Moody throw up an anti-animagus spell that would force any animagus entering the room in their animal form to abruptly, and rather painfully, revert to human form. Amelia gave a curt nod and stormed away, her mind entirely focused on hunting down one gossiping beetle for prosecution.

Trevor shook his head and turned to ask Klouse to take the evidence box that contained the items found in the Dursley's cupboard to their guest cavern at Gringotts. If Klouse had any question or reservation about doing so, he kept them to himself as Healer Stone stiffly said goodbye and walked out. Jake just shrugged and scanned Harry once for signs of distress before he too left the room. Klouse spent a few minutes talking with Trevor about the trial, which had once again been postponed a full twenty-four hours. When they finished Klouse took his leave and left Trevor and Leticia alone with a sound asleep Harry.

_June 26, 1985 10:39 PM_

Remus Lupin, one confused and scruffy young werewolf, paced back and forth in the shabby little cottage he called home. Ever since he'd read the shocking news about Harry Potter being abused, he'd been torn up inside, furious with both Dumbledore, for warning him to stay away from Petunia's family, and himself, for listening to the barmy old coot in the first place. He'd been a right mess for nearly two years right after the murder of his best friend and wife and the subsequent murder and imprisonment of his remaining two friends but thoughts of his quasi-godson had eventually helped pull him out of his depression and guilt and he'd approached Albus Dumbledore about visiting Harry, only to be told he was not allowed.

Oh, Dumbledore phrased it differently, saying it was best not to complicate Harry's childhood by bringing up the past but in the end it all boiled down to the same thing; he had been forbidden from visiting young Harry. And he'd been content to simply follow orders, right up until the moment he'd read the breaking articles about Harry's abuse at the hands of Lily's sister. The wolf inside him had become furious at the subterfuge of one Albus Dumbledore and he'd been in a right state ever since. He'd taken five minutes to send Dumbledore several Howlers but otherwise had nothing to do with the man he'd once considered his mentor since that day.

On the day of the first trial, Remus had been seated in the very back of one of the upper galleries. He'd been shocked to the core when Mr. Matheson had announced, loud and clear, that Sirius Black (Remus's one time friend who'd been imprisoned for betraying the Potters and murdering twelve Muggles and Pettigrew, another of Remus's old friends, shortly afterwards) had never been formerly tried before being tossed into Azkaban. According to the squib lawyer, Black had never been given the opportunity to confess or refute the crimes he'd been accused of. Only one thought had been running through the werewolf's mind for the remainder of that trial; _what does that mean?_

When Remus next began paying attention to the proceedings, it was to learn the exact depths of the atrocities that Harry had suffered at the hands of his aunt and uncle and the wolf inside him rebelled at the thought of his cub, James and Lily's precious boy, suffering to the point where he nearly died. He'd been forced to step outside the gallery in order to regain control of his emotions, least he let the werewolf inside him force a transformation in front of the entire Wizengamot. As he was standing there, gulping deep, calming breaths, a red haired man ushered three equally red-headed boys out of the gallery where Remus had been sitting and led them towards the atrium. Remus couldn't blame the man for removing his children from the trial, who wanted their children to hear such gruesome details let alone see the horrid memories that had been played out for all to see?

As the youngest of the trio of boys passed him by, Remus caught the briefest flash of a pet rat clasped firmly in the boy's hands. The werewolf let his eyes linger on the rat only fleetingly, before he reentered the gallery so he could listen in to the rest of the trial, the rat forgotten for the moment.

Later that night, Remus had dreamed of the full moons he'd spent inside the Shrieking Shack with his three closest friends. In his dreams, Prongs (James Potter's stag animagus form) stood to one side, his large antlered head held regally aloft as a dainty doe nuzzled his side. Padfoot (a huge black dog that was often mistaken for a grim and Sirius Black's form) was howling in the background, his voice sounding tortured as it cried out in grief, and on the floor right beside Moony (Remus in his werewolf body) Wormtail (the rat Peter Pettigrew transformed into) laughed as his fur repeatedly changed from gray to red and back.

When he woke the next morning, Remus couldn't recall any details from his dreams but he felt greatly unsettled in the pale light. He ended up spending most of that day locked in his house trying to understand what had happened yesterday while he ignored his unopened copy of the Daily Prophet; his heart in far too much pain to read about everything he'd heard the day before.

On the second day of the Dursley's trial, Remus had taken a seat next to a familiar red haired man and the two of them had struck up a conversation. He was somewhat surprised to learn the man had married Gideon and Fabian Prewett's younger sister Molly. Remus and his friends had known the older Prewett boys through their work for the Order of the Phoenix, which brought back painful memories of the war and the loss of his three best friends. During their chats over the various recesses, Remus learned that Percy, the middle child and youngest of the boys who had attended the proceedings two days earlier, had found a wandering rat in their garden four years earlier and kept the thing as his pet.

Remus grinned in response for a millisecond before his dream flashed before his eyes, the image of a red Wormtail that was soon overlaid in his mind by the image of a red haired boy gripping a struggling and very familiar gray rat in two hands as he walked by Remus the other day. Up until that exact moment Remus hadn't even entertained the idea that Sirius might be innocent of the charges he'd been sent to prison for but if Sirius was guilty; why would Peter hide for nearly four years as a pet rat? Unless he was afraid? Only, what was there to be afraid of if Sirius and most of the rest of the Death Eaters were locked up in Azkaban? It would only make sense for Peter to hide if he was guilty… but guilty of what exactly?

Remus had left the gallery at that point, intent upon speaking to Director Bones the moment she exited the courtroom. He'd paced outside the courtroom entrance for hours only to miss her as she Portkeyed out of the building with Harry's lawyers and Mad-Eye Moody. Growling in frustration, Remus had immediately left the Ministry and returned to his home where he spent the rest of the evening pacing in front of his fireplace. The wolf growing more and more agitated as his emotional state got out of hand, a condition that was not helped by the fact that the next full moon would be rising in just six nights.

At seven o-clock sharp the next morning, Remus apparated back to the Ministry where he immediately hunted down Amelia Bones in order to pass along his discovery. Amelia, her mind far more focused on another illegal animagus, didn't pick up the importance of a living Pettigrew until after Remus had repeated his story two or three times; at which point a team of five Aurors, including a newly reinstated Moody, had been dispatched to the Burrow where they were instructed to apprehend one small gray rat that went by the name of Scabbers.

They returned somewhat worse for wear three hours later with a filthy, rat-like man blubbering and whimpering that it was all a mistake. Amelia took one look at the rather pathetic looking Pettigrew and ordered him to be secured in one of the cells with an anti-animagus warding to prevent his escape. Next, she took the Floo to St. Mungo's where she held a hurried conference with Trevor Matheson for any information he had regarding Black's trial (or lack thereof) before taking the Floo to the offices of Samson, Matheson, and Carter International where she formerly retained Klouse as the defense attorney for Black's case; Director Bones fully intended to reopen the case and put the imprisoned wizard on the stand alongside the recently discovered, and remarkably living, Pettigrew.

_June 27, 1985 2:39 AM_

Knowing that his leaving would be public knowledge later that afternoon, Lucius slipped out of his bed and ghosted his way out of the room he shared with Severus. A quick spell disillusioned his body before he began moving stealthily through the halls until he came to the stairwell. Without hesitating, he made his way down to the ground floor of the hospital and began searching for the room where Harry Potter was being kept for his treatments, according to healer and patient gossip. He struck gold in the form of a pair of Aurors sitting outside one of the private wards chatting about the day's trial.

Lucius silently maneuvered himself until he was standing in front of and slightly in between the pair of guards and cast a mild sleeping charm that knocked the two wizards out simultaneously. Grinning wickedly, the former Death Eater scanned the door for protective wards and removed those that he found with a deft flick of his wrist. Once the door was safe, he opened his just wide enough so he could slip inside where he immediately searched out the bed of the Potter brat. He dismissed both the sleeping muggle and squib as no threat and approached the foot of the bed with a triumphant strut. _Revenge will be mine!_ Lucius thought to himself as he watched the sleeping boy for several minutes.

As a precaution, he cast another mild sleeping spell on all three occupants of the room before he began chanting the In Loco Parentis Binding Ceremony in flawless Latin. His smile widened as he watched the dark blue (nearly black) tendrils of his magic begin binding the boy to him; his victory but a breath away as he recited his way through the final phrases of the ritual. Unfortunately for Malfoy, he didn't know of the emancipation ceremony that had taken place several days earlier as he spoke the words of binding, "In loco parentis proprius."

The moment the last word slipped from is mouth; the blue and green torrent of Harry's magic flowed from his body and viciously attacked Malfoy senior. The primal scream of an angered lion tore through the sleep spells both inside and outside of the room as the imposing green figure from the inheritance ritual made a second appearance. A large hand of blue magic lifted Lucius from the floor and squeezed him painfully before it threw him towards the door of the room, causing the door to shatter on impact as he passed through both the door and the wall directly opposite of Harry's room.

The two Aurors, startled awake by the scream of rage had barely made it to their feet when Lucius flew past. By unspoken agreement, the Auror on the left pelted after Lucius while the other wizard peeked into Harry's room, only to flounder backwards as a wave of blue magic poured forth in pursuit of Malfoy. He'd only had a moment's glimpse of a green _something_ standing guard in the room before he had to drive out of the way of the burning blue magic.

Not more than ten seconds later, the battered body of Lucius was dragged back into the private room of the Boy-Who-Lived. The Auror who'd gone after Lucius followed in the wake of the visible magic only to stumble to a stop next to his partner as a high pitched scream of pain echoed through the entire hospital, waking healers, visitors, and patients alike. One of the Aurors disappeared with a loud crack, determined to bring in reinforcements, while the other man lay down on the floor and tried to get a look at what was going on inside the room.

Inside the room, Trevor was trying to reason with the magical green being while Leticia made an effort to calm a now thrashing Harry. The two had been completely startled by the angry roar, one that Trevor recognized immediately from his experience during the inheritance ritual, and after breaking Leticia out of her fear induced stupor the two began working on bringing the current situation under control.

It took several minutes, but finally the being of pure magic heeded Trevor's pleas and after a barked order in the tongue of the Norse, the blue hand dropped the now severely burnt and mangled body of one Lucius Malfoy at the squib's feet before speaking in heavily accented and stilted English, "His justice shall be in your hands," before his form exploded into a thousand points of light and faded from view.

It was at that point that Kingsley Shacklebolt dashed into the room with his wand drawn and a dozen Aurors on his heels. Trevor simply shook his head and waved a hand vaguely in Malfoy's direction before returning to Harry's side where the boy was still thrashing. Healers Weber and Stone joined the group in the room not a minute later and after taking in the situation helped sooth Harry until the child slipped back into peaceful sleep before casting a few diagnostic spells over the new prisoner at the request of Shacklebolt.

Memories were gathered from those who witnessed the entire episode, including one taken forcibly from the now unconscious Malfoy, and wands checked using 'Prior Incantato' to determine the last five spells that had been used. Malfoy was then dragged to the ministry where he was placed in a holding cell to await trial.

Upstairs, on the fourth floor, Severus Snape (woken by the scream of rage from several floors below) stared at the empty bed beside him and felt a great sense of foreboding well up inside him.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong> _If there is one thing that seems consistent in the HP universe it is the fact that wizard's seem to lack common sense. Ooo… dangerous and powerful magical artifact needs extra protection? Let's lock it up in a castle full of curious and rebellious school children and tell them exactly where it is being kept. Feeling irate because your eternal rival just had your home searched for illegal artifacts? I know, let's give your rival's daughter a dangerous book so she can unleash a deadly monster within the castle where your own son sleeps! I mean really… and those are just two examples. _

_So that was my reasoning behind Lucius's apparent stupidity; plus I just love torturing Malfoy; he's simply lacking in common sense. Not that all of the changes I've made make perfect sense or show real logic but I blame it on magic. lol. Remus's sudden realization seems to have hit pay dirt and it looks like Sirius might just be out a few years early. Rita is her usual profiteering self. And we see that Kreacher has not been completely forgotten by Harry or Trevor. _

_Poor Harry… I tried finding another way to fix his bones without doing the whole drink a single potion and you'll be fixed overnight cure which is how I came up with the replacement. I could have had it over in one night but realistically that just doesn't seem logical because what would hold all of his insides in place? Not to mention the pain and the sheer volume of Skele-Gro he'd have to take… because it makes no sense that a dose with the ability to regrow a hand and arm (CoS) would be enough to regrow the entire body._

_Next update will be on Wizard's World before we get back to the mayhem here as chapter twelve will take us back to the various trials and the fallout of Lucius's failed attempt to magically claim Harry as his ward and the discovering of a living Pettigrew. ~ Jenn_

_*PS: The misspellings in the article were intentional... since that seems to be a classic Skeeterism. =)  
><em>


	12. No Rest for the Weary

**Disclaimer: **_All HP characters are the property of JKR, the WB, and respective publishing companies - this is nothing more than a simple FanFiction that I have written. I have made no money from this or any of the other stories I have posted on this or other sites._

**AN:** _Story beta'd by my R/L daughter Sillyhobbit_.

* * *

><p><em><strong><span>Chapter 12: No Rest for the Weary<span>**_

_June 27, 1985 10:30 AM_

Kingsley walked into his boss's office in hopes of discussing the events of the night before, only to find she wasn't in her office and it didn't appear that she'd had the time to read his report on Malfoy's attack of Harry Potter. Knowing she'd be back eventually, Kingsley sat down in one of the office chairs in front of her desk and propped his feet up on the desk while she waited. Shortly after he sat down, an irate Alastor thumped into the office with a thick roll of parchment.

"Bones not back yet?"

"Not that I know of," Kingsley replied as he used a foot to slide the other chair closer to Moody. "Might as well pull up a seat while you wait. Amelia won't be found until she's good and ready if she's out on one of her crusades."

Mad-Eye snorted and twisted the offered chair around so that he could watch both the fireplace and the door. Once he settled into the seat he fixed his real eye on the younger Auror while his magical eye scanned the entire room and the hallways out beyond the office. "What brings you in here bright and early after a late night on watchman duty?"

"Pureblood stupidity," Kingsley quipped as he tilted his chair back a little further. "What about you? Aren't you supposed to be retired?"

"Supposed to be but Bones reinstated me this morning so I could lead a team in pursuit of a rat."

"You don't say? How many pieces did you bring the vermin back in?"

"Just one," Moody growled out as took a drink from his well known hip flask. "We managed to transform the bloody rat into a living, breathing Peter Pettigrew at the capture site before dragging his arse back here and promptly throwing him into the holding tanks."

"Morgana's sagging left…" Kingsley swore as his chair tipped over backwards and spilled him out onto the floor as he twisted to face Moody in shock. "He's supposed to be dead!"

"Supposed to be is the key word there, Shack."

"And here I thought Malfoy being stupid enough to attack Harry Potter in the early hours this morning would stir up a hornets' nest," Kingsley growled out as he picked himself and the chair back up and before sitting back down.

"Are you telling me that the pathetic lump I saw in the cell next to Pettigrew is Lucius Malfoy?" Moody demanded as he focused both eyes on Shacklebolt after spewing out the sip of bourbon he'd just drank from his flask.

"Right in one, caused a huge scene in St. Mungo's at about three in the morning, I didn't get there until all the action was over and done though. Seems the fool tried to do an In Loco Parentis Binding, on an emancipated minor no less, and the Potter kid's magic took office. Both Aurors begged to switch assignments after witnessing a small fraction of the incident."

"You're telling that a five year old boy's accidental magical outburst roughed up Malfoy enough to make him practically unrecognizable?"

"The memory vials are sitting on the desk if you feel like watching. Pulled one from both witnesses inside the room with the boy, the two Aurors outside, and a forced retrieval of Lucius's experience from two a. m. until the moment I arrived so I could see things from his point of view. Trevor said it was the second time he'd witnessed the phenomenon that was Harry's defense mechanism, only this time it didn't 'play nice' according to him."

Without saying a word; Moody stood up, emptied the vial labeled _T. Matheson_ into Amelia's pensive, and thrust his hand into the silvery liquid. When he came out about fifteen minutes later he looked white as a sheet as he unsteadily returned to his seat and drank down half his bourbon in one long gulp.

"Yep," Kingsley remarked, "that's about how I felt after viewing that particular memory. Makes me wonder what Trevor meant by 'playing nice' the previous time he'd experienced the boy's magic."

As Moody opened his mouth to comment, Amelia walked in and began throwing orders to the two Auror cadets following on her heels. "Pull me Black's Academy file, Hogwarts records, and his criminal files and deliver them to me pronto. In addition to those, I want every scrap of paper work we have on Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew. Might as well bring me all of James and Lily Potter's paperwork as well, don't forget to check under Lily's maiden name too; I can't think of what it was off the top of my head though, you'll have to check hers and Potter's marriage license for the info. What the hell are the two of you doing lounging around my office?" This last was snapped in the direction of Moody and Shacklebolt as they sat watching the witch stomp around the office.

"I had a busy night and thought you might like it if I brief you before I go home for the day, since it doesn't look like you've found the time to read the report yet," Kingsley commented offhandedly as he let his superior's anger roll right over him.

"You wanted me here," Moody replied caustically, his mouth not far from his flask as he continued to drink what little alcohol remained in the small bottle.

"Damnation, I don't have time for this. What in the blazes is so important it couldn't wait Shack? And why are you drinking that foul crap in my office Moody?"

Both wizards simply pointed at the swirling memory still sitting inside the pensieve on her desk. Growling expletives to both obstinate men, Amelia touched the memory with a finger after barking at the two cadets to stop standing around and bring her the files she requested. When she came back to herself, she slowly sat down in her chair as she processed what she'd just witnessed second hand.

"My day just gets worse and worse," Amelia commented dryly after five more minutes had passed. "Shack, go home and get some sleep, we'll discuss this before tomorrow's Wizengamot session with Klouse and Trevor. Moody, bring me copies of everything you have on Malfoy. I want to pin that slippery eel to the stones of Azkaban before the week is out. Anything you have on Black you can bring as well, I know he was part of Dumbledore's group during the war. We can discuss your report on Pettigrew's arrest later today if I find the time, if not we'll have to make time tomorrow. And one of you please tell my secretary to bring me a headache potion or five."

* * *

><p>Trevor was sitting beside Harry's bed when the boy woke up just after eight the morning after Lucius's attack. The boy and the man silently stared at each other for several minutes before Harry turned away and pulled the covers up over his head. Trevor sighed sadly as he listened to the subdued sniffles and sobs for a few seconds before he reached out and pulled down the sheet and blanket so he could see the child.<p>

"Harry, I need you to tell me what is wrong if I am going to find a way to fix it or explain why things happened the way they did."

Harry wiped his face and rolled back so he could look Trevor in the eye once more. Instead of answering though, he simply shrugged one shoulder and shook his head no. Trevor couldn't help the small bitter chuckle he let out at that, his mind going back to the first time Harry had awoken in his presence.

"Shall we play the question game again until I figure it out for myself?"

"No," Harry whispered as he pursed his lips, his memory of the question game not one of the best as Trevor had asked some very difficult questions.

"Does that mean you're willing to tell me what's brothering you? No? Then I suppose that only leaves it up to me to ask a couple of questions if I'm to figure out what has upset you on my own," Trevor stated as he scooted his chair closer to the stone bed and leaned forward. "Let's start with the easy questions again; are you in any pain from last night? And do you remember anything from last night?"

"Nno," Harry replied after thinking about it for a moment or two. "Nothing."

"I suppose that is good in a sense. Jake or Healer Stone will be in after you eat breakfast to check on your feet. We'll discuss what happened last night another time, since you don't remember anything. Next on our agenda will be a little tougher." Here Trevor paused and studied Harry's face for a few seconds before leaning in and whispering a single word. "Kreacher."

Harry's eyes grew wide and he flinched back a touch before his body began trembling.

"Please, Harry, tell me about Kreacher."

It took several minutes for Harry to calm down enough to talk about the missing house elf, with Trevor trying to sooth and encourage him. Finally, when it became apparent that Trevor wasn't going to let the matter rest, Harry whispered, in a tiny and frightened voice, "He was scary, he talked funny, and then he… he exploded."

Whatever Trevor had been expecting it was not that. He tried several times to wrap his mind around the idea of a house elf exploding and a possible reason for said house elf to explode. After gathering his wits, he asked Harry if Kreacher had given him anything before the explosion or if he had said anything.

"He… said he didn't like it. He called me Master Harry and that a friend sent him. And he floated me back to my bed before he exploded. He gave me nothing… but the things he had with him didn't explode with him and… and… they were my treasures."

Trevor sat back and considered the matter for a while as Harry watched him uncertainly. His thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of a healer apprentice carrying in a breakfast tray with oatmeal and scones that he placed on Harry's lap before vanishing out the door once more.

"Please eat while I think about what you have told me some more," Trevor instructed as he sat back and fingered the edges of the envelope in his pocket as he watched Harry pull pieces from a scone and chew them slowly. When it came to eating the oatmeal, Harry still had trouble holding the spoon steady, so Trevor absently helped him while he considered how much Harry would need to know right at the moment.

About the time Harry swallowed his last bite of porridge (having eaten about a third of what was in the bowl), Leticia walked into the room carrying a tray from the upstairs cafeteria that she handed off to Trevor as she walked passed his chair. She gave Harry a smile that he timidly returned before plopping herself down in the chair on the other side of the bed. Trevor absently picked at the eggs and hash browns Leticia had brought back for him while she spent several minutes doting on Harry now that the child was no longer ignoring them both.

Healer Stone entered not long after that and ran a few diagnostic tests before removing the blocks from Harry's feet and rubbing the numbing cream over newest bone replacements. She instructed Harry to wiggle his toes often during the next hour before briskly exiting the room; obviously still more than a little offended from the accusations of a breach of trust from the night before. Once the three of them were alone again, Trevor pulled out the battered envelope and set it in Harry's hands. Harry's face lit up as he let his fingers run over the swirls and curls on the front before he frowned and looked up at Trevor. His eyes filled with uncertainty once more.

"Is this one of your treasures that Kreacher left behind?" Harry nodded timidly. "Do you know what was inside?" This time Harry shook his head no. "There was a letter inside; it told me why Kreacher was there in that cupboard with you. He should have delivered it to me after he left you but something went wrong. That is why the letter was left behind. The other letter is for you to read on your eleventh birthday. Both letters were to explain what was supposed to happen but I'm guessing the person who sent Kreacher to you made a mistake. I don't yet know how, why, or what though."

"Will I be able to have my letter back?" Harry asked woefully as he reluctantly gave the envelope in his hands back to Trevor.

"Yes, of course. I would let you keep this envelope as well but if you tried to open it there is some nasty magic on it that could hurt you because you are not me. Doesn't that make sense?"

Harry shrugged listlessly, his entire being focused on the loss of his treasures. Trevor expected this response though, so he didn't push the issue right then. Instead, he casually offered Harry something to look forward to. "I asked Klouse to bring you the bag of packages and the locket to the cavern we are borrowing from the goblins. That bag was mentioned in my letter along with an explanation of what each package contains. If you'd like, we can open them together at some point once we are finished here."

Harry perked up with the news that he hadn't lost all of his prizes, a timid smile once more gracing his features while he wiggled his toes at the reminder of why they were in the hospital.

* * *

><p>Dumbledore was agitated beyond all reason. Witches and wizards on the street heckled him mercilessly any time he appeared in public. His closest friends and fellow Order members either ignored him or cursed him when he attempted to contact them about attending a meeting. Howlers were erupting on his desk by the hundreds, the owls just dumping them on an ever present pile of red envelopes that exploded unattended as he tried in vain to fix the seemingly unending problems that had cropped up ever since the middle of April.<p>

Three of his longest tenured professors, aside from Binns the ghost, had delivered scathing lectures along with their letters of resignation. Minerva McGonagall (Transfiguration), Pomona Sprout (Herbology), and Filius Flitwick (Charms) were not only seasoned professors of core classes at Hogwarts, they were the Heads of Houses for Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw (respectfully) and Minerva had been his deputy for nigh on eighteen years. Replacing them would be nearly as difficult as it would be finding a Defense professor for the coming school year.

What's more, is that Rolanda Hooch (the flying instructor), Poppy Pomfrey (the School Matron), and Bathsheba Babbling (Ancient Runes) were all threatening to do the same. If the school governors caught wind of the mass exodus before replacements could be located and hired, he'd be facing an inquiry if not outright termination. Even if he did find qualified witches and wizards to fill the vacancies, his might still be sacked just on general principles given how much negative press he'd been receiving. The most recent headlines only adding to his dilemma as his name and reputation were further dragged through the mud after a second day of testimony and evidence was presented by the prosecution at the Dursley trial.

Word had been sent by the International Confederation of Wizards that his position as Supreme Mugwump was being reviewed by his peers and he was obligated to attend an emergency meeting at the end of July to 'explain himself' to the confederation. A fact that the Wizengamot was already fully aware of as they had been sent the same notice along with a request to have a replacement witch or wizard present in the event that Dumbledore was voted out of his place on the international council.

The avalanche of bad luck that was tailing Albus only seemed to keep growing larger the harder he tried to shovel his way out of the mess he'd found himself in. The saddest part was that he couldn't put aside his need to 'fix' everything so that the Greater Good could be achieved. That voice in the back of his head constantly kept pushing him to find a solution and to get Harry Potter back into a position where he could guide the boy to his destiny. The few times he'd questioned the voice's logic had proven quite painful but he couldn't recall just why, so he ignorantly continued on his present course which was leading him down the path of complete destruction completely unaware of his eventual fate.

_June 27, 1985 1:59 PM_

While Jake worked with Harry's feet Leticia and Trevor sat off to the side eating a late lunch. Trevor's mind was miles away, thinking about the progression of the Dursley trial and the large bottle of Harry's old memories that needed to be separated, viewed, and cataloged so they could be presented to the Wizengamot if needed.

Leticia had been watching the older man and trying to find the courage to bring up a topic they both had been avoiding since Trevor's abduction over a week earlier. She knew they needed to clear the air but she was reluctant to be the first to broach the subject when it was obvious Trevor had other things on his mind. _Still, _she thought to herself, _it's not as if he's made an effort to clarify his rather cryptic statements about the offer he made._ In the end, she jumped in with both feet and bluntly asked, "Are you ever going to make the time to explain why you no longer wish to hire me as a tutor for Harry?"

"What?" Trevor blurted out as he focused his attention on Leticia for the first time since they sat down to eat.

"You know, the whole '_before you accept, there are some things you need to know,_' line you gave me when I told you I would accept the position as his tutor? You also said, and I quote, '_I wasn't thinking things through all the way and it is important that you are aware of certain things._' You do remember that conversation, don't you?"

"Yes," Trevor groaned as he set his fork down and leaned back in his chair. "I'd intended to discuss things with you that following morning, only Dumbledore's stooge kidnapped me and Harry's location was discovered by both Dumbledore and the press. Forgive me for ignoring the matter, my mind has been on other business since that day. We can discuss it now, if you wish. Auror Shacklebolt secured the room against eavesdropping and intrusions before leaving earlier this morning."

"I meant what I said; I'd like to tutor Harry. He's such a sweet child and he's been opening up a little more each time I read with him."

"I'm sure you'd do a wonderful job working with him, it's just that… well quite frankly, are you sure you can handle the madness that comes with being that much apart of Harry's life?" Trevor countered seriously. "He is a celebrity in the wizarding world, any time he appears in public he will be swarmed by adoring mindless fans. There is also the fact that there are witches and wizards out there who mean to do him harm and most of them will have no qualms about harming and or killing you should you get in the way. Not to mention the prejudices you will face because you are 'a simple muggle' to quote Delores Umbridge."

"I can deal with the prejudices, there are more than enough bigoted people in the so called muggle world and I've had to put up with my fair share. My name and face have already been linked by the wizarding papers with Harry's name, so there's no point in me hiding from the attention I'll draw any time I appear in public with or without him as he grows up. Those same articles will make me a target by the people wishing to get to Harry as well, because my name will have been linked with his and they will rightly or wrongly believe they can get to the child through me. Nothing will change that now. As for the rest? All I can do is hold on tight and be there when Harry needs me."

"In retrospect you have several good points. Had we had this conversation prior to everything that has happened, I don't think your arguments would be as sound as they are now. Welcome aboard, Ms. Hall," Trevor replied as he reached over and shook Leticia's hand.

"Call me Lettie, all my friends do," Leticia insisted as she laughed softly. "What kind of a learning schedule did you have in mind? And will you be hiring other tutors to help him with the magical side of his education?"

"I'd like to start him with the basics; learning his letters (which I know you've already started), numbers, shapes, colors, and other similar things," Trevor explained as he pulled a notepad out of his robe pocket and began jotting things down. "He'll need to be encouraged to continue to ask questions, as he sometimes hesitates, frequently I think. For the moment I'd stick with verbal interaction until he regains more control over his basic motor skills. I'll worry about the magical side of his education later, once we're certain his core has fully stabilized."

"That should be fairly simple and straight forward. He'll need some early primers and a wide selection of picture and story books for visual aides to start. And maybe some of the extra chunky pencils or crayons to help him with his hand and eye coordination. That might be easier than having him work with silverware or regular pencils."

"If you can write me a list of titles for the books and primers I can pick those up this evening after my meeting at the office with Klouse. I can even grab a few boxes of crayons and some blank paper from Ryman's."

"Can I borrow your notebook? Great, this will only take me a couple of minutes as I already have a list of titles in mind." Lettie wrote as she continued speaking. "If you do pick up paper and crayons, can you pick up a box or carrying case to store them in?"

"I'll see what I can find."

Trevor left not long after, while Lettie returned to Harry's side where she continued working on teaching Harry his ABC's, something she'd been doing since they'd found themselves spending an inordinate amount of time in a cavern deep below London with very little in the way of entertainment. As she was listening to Harry parrot back the alphabet song when it occurred to her that she'd not discussed her salary or a supply budget with Trevor before he left. She gave a mental shrug and made note to discuss the details with Trevor later as she turned her attention back to Harry as he finished the song a second time.

June melted seamlessly into July as the Dursley trial dragged on for another two weeks. By the eighth day of testimony and evidence Dumbledore had attempted to retract his position of Defense Council on the grounds that he could not present an adequate defense of the Dursleys without them present. His efforts backfired spectacularly when both Petunia and Vernon were Portkeyed into the Ministry for a day so that they could be given truth serum and testify in their own defense. The results were horrific and actually brought the entire scandal to a neat and tidy end as the acting Chief Warlock, Tiberius Ogden, called for deliberations to begin the moment Petunia Dursley answered her final question. The Wizengamot had remained sequestered for well over seventy-two hours straight before reaching a decision, with the verdict being scheduled to be read before the courts first thing in the morning on July fifteenth.

_July 15, 1985 8:01 AM_

"We, the collective body of the Wizengamot, find the defendants, Vernon and Petunia Dursley guilty on all accounts. Vernon and Petunia Dursley have already been sentenced to two hundred years, or four life sentences, in the Muggle prison system. In light of this fact, we the Wizengamot order that Vernon and Petunia be placed within solitary confinement within the Muggle prisons for a minimum of twenty years without any outside contact. After which, they will be removed from the Muggle penitentiary (their deaths faked to prevent the muggle authorities from searching for the pair) and moved into the high security level at Azkaban where both Dursleys will be given rejuvenating and strengthening potions regularly so that they may live out a slightly reduced sentence of seventy-five years under the hospitality of the dementors. At such time, if they are still living, their health and sanity will be reviewed to determine if they are fit for release. So mote it be."

It was the harshest wizarding sentence ever given to a pair of Muggles but it was the only way the judicial body of the wizarding world would be able to appease the public without inciting further riots. Dumbledore made a few speeches about second chances and leniency but they were ignored as the courts turned their attention to the trials of Lucius Malfoy, Peter Pettigrew, and Sirius Black; the case against Dumbledore being placed on the back burner as being the least volatile of the four cases on the docket.

Lucius's trial was fast tracked through the system by Fudge, the entire trial taking less than three hours as Lucius pled guilty to the lesser charges of attempting magical adoption without permission in what his lawyer called a well meaning, if misguided, attempt to give the boy hero a secure and stable home environment. The fact that he lined Fudge's pockets and that he'd been unaware of the emancipation granted were the only two things that allowed him to once again escape spending time in Azkaban (much to the disgust of those who'd been hoping to see the man do time in Azkaban. He was ordered to give a public apology at a press conference that would be held after the day's proceedings and fined five thousand galleons that would be split evenly between Harry and St. Mungo's for compensation and repairs.

The last order of business for the day was the start of Sirius Black's trial. Remus Lupin was the first witness to be called up to testify by the prosecution. He was questioned extensively by Delores Umbridge and then by Klouse as his testimony punched all kinds of holes in the certainty that Sirius was guilty of the crimes he'd been charged with. Umbridge, furious with the backfiring of her witness, turned around and attempted to crush Remus's believability by exposing him as a werewolf and making insinuations about his nature and character in general. It was a bitter end to the day for Remus, as he exited the court room discouraged and publicly humiliated. That would be the last time anyone saw Remus Lupin alive. Witnesses later stated that Umbridge had been seen threatening the man outside of the Wizengamot chambers.

Severus Snape was the only other witness to testify before the court adjourned for the day. He was called by the prosecution to give personal insight into Black's dark character as the two of them had attended Hogwarts at the same time. Klouse managed to work Snape into ranting rage, ruining the potion professor's own reliability with just a few pointed questions about the bitter rivalry that existed between Snape and the Gryffindor quartet known as the Marauders. With Umbridge wrapped up in a raging snit, the trial was scheduled to resume on the seventeenth with Dumbledore testifying for the prosecution.

_July 17, 1985 9:17 AM_

Black's trial was once again placed on hold when it was discovered that Remus Lupin was not in attendance, the werewolf was being recalled by the defense when the prosecution dismissed its final witness. An Auror was dispatched to the werewolf's home only to return twenty-five minutes later with the news that Lupin had been kissed by a rogue dementor. Remus would be declared clinically dead two hours later after the trial had been shelved in favor of an emergency investigation to locate the dementor responsible. Shacklebolt later turned up evidence that three dementors had been present in the area of the Lupin cottage and that it had been a ministry sanctioned attack ordered by Delores Umbridge in retaliation for the werewolf's testimony at the opening of the trial.

Delores was sacked and sentenced to fifty years in Azkaban for murder and Fudge's administration immediately came under close scrutiny by law enforcement. When the goblins provided proof of Fudge's tendency to accept bribes he was quickly removed from office by a vote of no confidence with a reluctant Augusta Longbottom being sworn in two hours later (Amelia Bones and Tiberius Ogden both having declined accepting the position as they felt they were doing more good in their current positions). The entire process was finished before lunch on the same day and Sirius's trial resumed after a one hour recess.

Amelia Bones replaced Umbridge as the prosecution as Arthur Weasley was called to the stand to explain the circumstances about his son's pet rat. Memories and past statements taken by Alastor Moody on the day of Peter's capture were also presented before Pettigrew was called to the stand and fed Veritaserum before being questioned. Finally, Sirius Black was dragged into the room looking worse for wear as he was chained to the chair in the center of the room. Shacklebolt administered the Veritaserum to Sirius and the moment it took effect Klouse began questioning the man about the events just before and just after October thirty-first, nineteen-eighty-one.

By four o-clock that afternoon Sirius was being checked into St. Mungo's for a complete health evaluation after being exonerated by the Wizengamot. Pettigrew, on the other hand, had been striped of his Order of Merlin and sentenced to Death via the Veil in the Department of Mysteries, to be carried out immediately. By eight-thirty that evening, using several well placed compulsion and memory charms, Albus Dumbledore had gotten Sirius admitted to the Janus Thickey Ward with a diagnosis of mental instability due to extreme exposure to the debilitating effects of prolonged exposure to multiple dementors. By the next morning Sirius would be doped into a comatose state by a combination of mood suppression and cognitive inhibitor potions that would prevent the former auror cadet from functioning normally.

In stark contrast to the riots that broke out after the general public learned of their hero's tragic life, the news following what later became known as Chaotic Wednesday, brought the entire British wizarding population to a stand still once again. Many witches and wizards hid in their homes frightened of what might happen next as their entire government had been turned ass over teakettle in a frightening whirlwind that lasted just a handful of hours. Even the news that Sirius Black had been falsely imprisoned brought no reaction in the wake of the Ministry falling practically overnight to the corruption from within.

For Rita Skeeter and the Daily Prophet it was a dream come true as the equally corrupt newspaper kept right on pumping out article after article of real and imagined scandals that were taking place deep in the heart of the Ministry. For Albus Dumbledore it was a nightmare brought to life as preparations resumed for his own trial.

Safe and secure deep beneath Gringotts Harry Potter continued to learn his letters by heart while his recently regrown feet dangled off the side of his hospital gurney. Around his neck he now wore the chain that held the golden locket with an elaborate 'S' created by a series of magically simulated emeralds.

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> _(Runs away to hide) Please don't hurt me! I know there are many Remus fans out there that are probably very, very angry with me right now. I personally like Remus (even though I think canon Remus is a bit of a weak character because he didn't seem all that concerned about Harry prior to taking the Defense job and even after he never seemed to be there). His death by Kiss was part of the chaos unleashed though and yes I realize that means that there is no Teddy in this future. For those angry with Dumbledore's machinations regarding Sirius… all I will say is that the story isn't over. _

_Umbridge… it may seem like she has more power than she should considering that Fudge hasn't been in office for that long but I see her as being closer to McGonagall's age and working her way up in the Ministry from at least the 70's finally earning the position as Undersecretary when Fudge took office because of the 'services' she provided him as a means to an end. I don't see her as 'loving' Fudge as a person but rather as loving what he could give to her as a weak-willed Minister. I don't see her as a marked follower of Voldemort's but I could easily see her as agreeing with his views and being quite thick with Malfoy. I hope that makes sense. _

_And finally, Augusta Longbottom as Minister… I know it seems unlikely and that it would seem better for her to avoid office since she is caring for Neville but that is exactly why I wanted her to take office. I see the fear that her grandson is a squib would drive her to take the position so she could better protect him because he is the only link she has to her only son (because as far as I know Frank has no siblings). I think she'd also have more power as Minister to protect Neville from Dumbledore as she shrewdly realizes that the older wizard's obsession with Harry isn't quite right and I believe Frank would have warned her to some degree about the prophecy (without giving her details) just so she'd be prepared. _


	13. World Turned on End

**Disclaimer: **_All HP characters are the property of JKR, the WB, and respective publishing companies - this is nothing more than a simple FanFiction that I have written. I have made no money from this or any of the other stories I have posted on this or other sites._

**AN:** _Story beta'd by my R/L daughter Sillyhobbit_.

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><p><em><strong><span>Chapter 13: World Turned on End<span>**_

_July 24, 1985 6:45 AM_

Harry's tiny fingers gripped the thick crayon awkwardly as he dragged the brown stick of colored wax down the piece of paper sitting in front of him. It was a tiresome effort moving his left arm where he wanted it to go while putting enough pressure on the crayon to get a nice thick line but to Harry it was well worth the effort. This was his first time actually using the crayons, though he'd had them for nearly a month now. He hadn't been able to bring himself to blunt their shiny tips after he first got them, being far too enthralled with the idea of owning his first set of crayons.

Now that some of the newness had worn off though, he'd decided he'd like to try drawing something. That something looked a little like a lumpy tree once he finished the line he was working on and sat back to rest. His arms still tended to wobble at the most annoying moments, which is why his straight trunked tree (the kind that most young children might produce when they first begin drawing recognizable pictures) looked more like a gnarled old oak tree without any limbs. At least it looked like the beginnings of a tree, even if it wasn't perfect and that made Harry giggle as he dropped the crayon back into the box and pulled out the green one.

This time he grasped the crayon firmly in his right hand so he could rest his left arm, the switching was entirely subconscious as he'd not wanted to stop drawing after the first stroke even though his entire right arm burned from the effort of producing those first few lines – so he'd switched hands, just like he used to do when polishing the floors for Aunt Petunia. Placing the pristine tip of the green crayon against the side of his tree trunk near the top, he began making a short series of wavy half circles that grew in the direction of the edge of the paper. After six or seven such lines, he paused and switched hands again and repeated the process moving upwards this time.

Another few minutes were spent maneuvering the paper around so he could reach the top before he took the crayon back into his right hand and headed his connected swirls back towards the center of the tree. Two more swaps brought the now worn tip of the crayon to its final resting place against the opposite side of the trunk and completed the 'leaves' of the tree, which looked just as crooked as the trunk. He then began the painstaking process of coloring in both the trunk and the treetop, switching hands and colors every few minutes. He even managed to draw a rather lumpy looking line across the bottom of the page for the ground.

At that point Harry could no longer ignore the growing soreness and stiffness in his arms, so he tucked the green crayon back into the box and placed both the unfinished drawing and crayon box into the black briefcase (which was sitting open beside him) under a pile of cast iron figures. He then closed the top of the case and pushed the latches down so it wouldn't fall open and spill his things out on the floor. Once he was sure both the paper and crayons were safe, he curled up and tucked his arms against his belly as he took a few deep breathes while whimpering softly through the now intense pain. He'd never expected drawing to be so painful, Dudley had only ever cried when he broke a crayon; not after drawing a picture.

Lettie heard Harry's whimpers the moment she woke up just after seven and she hurried to his side to see what was wrong. It took a few minutes for her to get the answer out of reticent child but once she understood that he was in pain, she poked her head out of the cavern door and asked the nearest goblin guard if he could send for a healer. To her surprise; the guard ignored her request, entered the room, and walked straight over to where Harry was lying on his bed.

"Where hurt?" the guard grunted stiltedly once he reached the boy's side.

"My arms," Harry whispered through his tears as he stared up at the now familiar visage of a fierce goblin. "They burn."

The goblin pursed his lips and reached out one long fingered hand to grab hold of Harry's right arm which he stretched out straight; causing Harry to hiss as his muscles screamed in protest. The goblin gave a wordless grunt and released Harry's wrist before digging into a pouch it carried at its side and pulling out an unlabeled flat round tin that had a green leaf etched into the lid.

"Muscle strain," the goblin uttered simply as he unscrewed the lid of the tin and dipped the fingers of one hand into the thick paste inside before ordering, "arm out."

Harry obediently straightened his right arm and gasped in shock as the goblin smeared the oddly warm paste down the inside of his arm before setting the jar down and using both hands to massage the goop over Harry's entire arm. Once it was absorbed into the skin; a cool, soothing sensation radiated from his arm as the burning of strained muscles vanished almost instantly. Without being told to, Harry presented his left arm for the same treatment. When the guard was finished, he recapped the tin and placed it in Harry's hands.

"You keep," the goblin explained when Harry frowned in confusion. "Use when need."

"Thank you, sir," Harry said in shocked reply as he cradled the tin of muscle slave tenderly against his belly.

The goblin blinked down at Harry in shock, as if seeing the boy for the first time since he'd entered. He wasn't used to being addressed so directly or so respectfully, he was a low level guard not even a captain let alone a banker.

"Glorthock," the goblin introduced solemnly as he tapped his right fist once against his chest.

Mimicking the goblin with a child's innocence, Harry thumped his own chest once and replied, "Harry." Harry then reached out a hand to grab one of the goblin's hands with his own and proceeded to shake hands with the goblin, a shy grin on his face as the small child formally, and unknowingly, made his first friend on his own.

Leticia, hearing the exchange from where she still stood beside the open door, smothered a gasp and a smile with both hands as Harry openly and verbally acknowledged his given name for the first time. She knew it was a major step in the boy's healing process and she couldn't be happier.

Glorthock abruptly left at that point. Leticia overheard the goblin exchange several sentences in their guttural language with the other guard on duty as she slowly closed the door. It had been a strange morning so far but she was beginning to get used to the inexplicable and unexplainable happening in this strange world of magic she'd stumbled into one fateful April morning. Returning to Harry's bed, she found him reverently placing the tin of paste inside his briefcase where he kept the rest of his treasures. Her eyes caught the faintest glimpse of color as he began closing the lid.

"What have you got inside there, Harry?" Lettie asked intrigued by the small flash she'd seen.

Harry's little hands paused over the locking clasps as he looked up at see Leticia standing beside him. He chewed on his lip nervously for several minutes before he slowly lifted the top of the case back up and carefully pulled out his drawing he'd been working on before she woke.

"That is amazing, Harry," Lettie honestly stated as she moved closer to get a better look at the crooked tree. "When did you draw this?"

"This morning, ma'am," Harry replied in a tiny voice, his eyes nervously bouncing between the expression on Leticia's face on the drawing in his hands.

"You did a wonderful job on the tree. If you're finished with it we can get a frame for it so it doesn't get crinkled."

"I'm not done yet. It hurt my arms too much to finish."

"Ah, that explains the muscle strain comment the goblin made. Well, Healer Weber did say that your muscles would be sore often once you started using them more. In time your muscles will grow stronger, until it no longer hurts to use your arms. Why don't we work on your letters while we wait for breakfast? That way you can let your arms rest just a little longer and then if you want you can color some more."

"Okay, can I read my letters using the magic book this time?" Harry asked, referring to the wizarding alphabet book that Klouse had bought for Harry after the first time the wizard lawyer had heard Harry reciting his ABC's out loud.

"Yes, but you should have asked 'may I' not 'can I', because 'may I' is asking for permission while 'can I' is asking if you have the ability to do the desired task. It doesn't seem like much of a difference but which word you use will make a big difference in the meaning of your question."

Harry nodded in understanding as he put his unfinished drawing back in the briefcase before pulling down a hidden shelf from the inside of the top of the briefcase to reveal a small shelf full of books; one of several magical alterations Klouse had made to the carrying case at Trevor's request. Harry selected one of the thicker leather bound books from shelf and handed it to Leticia before he closed the lid.

Lettie opened the wizarding primer to the English alphabet (one of three alphabets contained the book, the other two being the Latin and Greek alphabets) and placed it in Harry's lap once the boy had made himself comfortable. Harry then placed his index finger on the letter 'A' as he read it out loud and watched as the picture of the 'A' transformed into the picture of an apple. Harry giggled out the word apple which caused the picture to revert back into the letter 'A' and he moved onto the letter 'B', which changed into a bird.

In Leticia's mind the wizard's primer performed in a similar fashion to how she imagined an interactive computer would work. She'd even tried touching the letters once to see if she could make them change, only to be told that the book wouldn't work for her because it used a child's natural magic to power the rune based transfigurations of each letter into a picture. Klouse had gone on to explain that the book was used to help siphon off the excess magical energy of young children in an effort to help modulate the amount of magic the child gave off during an accidental outburst. It also exercised the child's magical core, forcing the core to recharge and build up the child's reserves on a regular basis, which would later facilitate the child's ability to control and moderate their magical output once they began formal training.

When Harry finished going through the alphabet the first time, he immediately flipped the pages back to the beginning and started over, the letters changing into completely different pictures this time. In fact, each letter had close to one hundred and fifty individual pictures linked to it using runic bindings so as to keep a child interested for longer periods of time since they never knew which order the images would appear each time they touched the letters. The thing Harry liked best about the book though, was that it had been written (or created) by Roland Potter two centuries earlier. A wizard, Klouse had informed him, who was Harry's great-great-great-grandfather on his father's side of the family. A connection that Harry treasured above all the material items he currently owned.

After breakfast, the pair moved onto a muggle counting book that Lettie was using to teach Harry is numbers. It wasn't attention grabbing like the wizarding primer but Harry enjoyed the book because it employed dragons as a visual aide. Harry loved dragons; they were a nice not-so-normal animal that the Dursleys would have hated with a passion.

A short break was then taken as Healer Weber arrived for Harry's morning check-up. Leticia helped Harry to explain his early morning activities (the foray into creative drawing) and his subsequent pain. Jake spent a few minutes casting diagnostic spells over both of Harry's arms before assuring the child that he would be fine. In fact, he encouraged Harry to draw as much as he wanted, providing he didn't push his arms too much and continued to use the muscle slave that Glorthock had left when his muscles began burning. Harry was so excited by the official permission that he pulled out his incomplete drawing to show Jake before adding a few squiggly lines of green around the base of the tree for grass.

Jake let him work on the drawing for a short while before asking Harry to set his crayons and paper to the side so they could work on his foot and toe exercises. Harry quickly complied before swinging his feet over the side of the bed and wiggling his toes for the healer. Each foot was pushed and pulled through a series of stretches designed to strengthen the muscles before being given a deep tissue massage. Harry's feet were then wrapped in thick towels that were charmed to give off soothing warmth to increase the circulation and relax the now tired and sore muscles. Ten minutes later; Jake removed the towels, spread a numbing cream over his feet, and helped Harry pull on a pair of thick warm socks.

The rest of Harry's day was spent listening to Leticia read out loud from _Horton Hears a Who_ by Dr. Seuss, short coloring stints where he added more grass to the ground by the tree and clouds in the sky, and playing with his toy dragon. The rest of the week passed in much the same way. Trevor and Klouse were both there often as well, the two attorneys working on sorting out several more of Harry's childhood memories, so they would know exactly what to expect when they eventually helped Harry come to terms with his experiences at the hands of the Dursleys.

_July 24, 1985 11:45 AM_

Lucius Malfoy sat back in his antique leather office chair and nursed his glass of Cabernet moodily. He'd been in a fine temper since the end of June when he'd been forced to give a public apology to the half-blooded wretch that had ruined everything. His wife, Narcissa, wisely said nothing as she watched him brood day in and day out. She just made it a point to steer their son, Draco, out of site of his father's growing rage to prevent the young child from bearing the brunt of Lucius's anger.

To make matters worse, the Malfoy name no longer carried the respect it once had and had only recently begun to regain. Every move Lucius and his family made from this point forward would be closely scrutinized by both the public and the government. This inevitably forced Lucius to forgo some of his more clandestine hobbies, the darker hobbies such as Muggle Torture and Squib Hunting. That meant Lucius had no outlets towards which to pour his growing frustration and that only added to his ever disintegrating mood.

And so, Lucius sat in his dimly lit study drinking expensive red wine while he plotted and planned the downfall of the Boy-Who-Lived. He contemplated torture, poison, and curses with a hundred different scenarios and rejected each one as inadequate or boorish. He even contemplated using an unforgivable on the meddling brat, but knew that would mean a one way ticket to Azkaban or the Veil given the recent upheavals in the wizarding world.

If the idiot Fudge had still been in office, he might have risked the unforgivables anyway. But Fudge had been ousted mere minutes after Lucius had been suspiciously cleared of all charges once again. Something that neither Alastor Moody nor Amelia Bones had been thrilled to witness. It was the only positive occurrence since the blasted Guardianship Ritual failed, a failure Lucius laid at the feet of Severus Snape. The whole blasted idea to bind the child through the archaic ritual had been Severus's idea. Not to mention it had been the acerbic potions master's mouth spouting off without thought that had left the two of them ignorant of the Potter brat's emancipation. If not for the fact that Severus was Draco's godfather, Lucius would have been tempted to dispose of the younger man on general principal for such a blindingly obvious lack of research.

But, unfortunately, Severus was the only fellow Death Eater that Lucius trusted to raise Draco properly should Lucius be unable to do so himself. Narcissa was of no consequence either way; because in Lucius's mind, women were there to service their husbands and provide an heir – nothing more, nothing less. And so, without any other options, Lucius continued to brood darkly in his study as he contemplated ways to take his revenge upon Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Ruined-Everything.

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><p>Across the continent, in a heavily warded castle, high in the Headmaster's tower, Albus Dumbledore mimicked the actions of Lucius Malfoy. There were differences though, in Dumbledore's methods, but he brooded just the same. Dumbledore sipped a syrupy, sweet iced lemonade instead of fine wine, his office was flooded with both natural and artificial light not bathed in shadows, and he longed to get young Harry Potter back into his control not kill the boy slowly and painfully. Dumbledore also wished to Obliviate the knowledge of the past six weeks from the minds of the entire wizarding world.<p>

Everything had gone from just perfect to utterly rotten in the blink of an eye and got steadily worse with each passing day. There were only seven days remaining until Dumbledore was required to present himself for an official sacking by the I.C.W., as there was no doubt in Albus's mind that that is exactly what would happen. He'd already been formally dismissed from the Wizengamot; a demotion made permanent just two days earlier when his trial had ended on a decidedly negative note, negative for Albus anyway. His position at Hogwarts was on the line as well, as Pomfrey, Babbling, and Hooch followed through with their threats and resigned within minutes of hearing the verdict of Dumbledore's trial.

Only his former reputation, which was currently in shreds, prevented the Board of Governors from sacking him before the start of the next term, that and the fact that he'd found tentative replacements for all but one of the vacant professorships. Herbology experts were apparently few and far between these days, especially ones with the inclination to work closely with a bitterly caustic potions professor; it seemed Snape's reputation preceded him. Maybe he could draw in a journeyman herbologist that would be willing to teach the course, one from out of country that wasn't aware of Snape's abrasive nature or a former Slytherin that held some respect for their former house peer. It would be worth a try at least.

While things were bad and his position rocky, Dumbledore was still far more concerned with getting Harry back into a position where the boy would eventually come to rely heavily upon him to guide him to his destiny. Currently, his only avenue open would be if the boy chose to attend Hogwarts when he turned eleven. Even then, because of the child's emancipation, Potter was no longer required by wizarding law to attend the venerable school in order to be fully qualified to carry a wand. In fact, if Harry enrolled in the institution the year following his eleventh birthday, the magical contract between student and the school would negate the child's emancipation (in that he'd be considered an underage student once enrolled regardless of his legal status outside of school) and give the Headmaster of the school guardianship of the child in question (since as far as Dumbledore knew the Potter boy was still an orphan).

Sitting up, Dumbledore held onto that thought, his eyes twinkling like never before. If he could slip an addendum into the school bylaws, making attendance mandatory for all school age children prior to the year Harry would be ready to attend he could maneuver the boy back into his control. Without the changes to the law though, he'd have to depend upon the desire of the boy to follow in his parents footsteps to get him to join the student body. If he could pull it off though, it would be perfect and all his plans for the Greater Good would be back on track.

Smiling in relief, Albus leaned back in his chair and drew a long sip of his lemon slushy through the straw in his glass.

* * *

><p>In a dingy office, deep in the heart of Knockturn Alley, Rita Skeeter sat on the edge of her desk dictating yet another story to her favorite quick quotes quill. This article would not be published until the thirty-first of the month, because she'd need to sneak into St. Mungo's to take more pictures to go with the script she was fabricating. What was she writing? Another update on the health of the Boy-Who-Lived, of course.<p>

She could have the article ready sooner but she felt it would have a greater impact on the public if she published the tale on the thirty-first. Besides, it was a time honored tradition (of the last three years at least) to publish a tantalizing story about the child-hero on his birthday. What made this year's story even juicier is that said child was due to start his second round of bone replacement on said birthday; a cruel joke in Rita's mind as the child purportedly never celebrated his birthday while living with his relatives and his first ever present (that he'd remember) would be a painful week spent in the hospital growing new bones. It would be one of Rita's most moving and emotional pieces in her entire career!

The editor of the Prophet, Barnabas Cuffe, had even promised to double her bonus if the article doubled the number of sales on the day the story was published. A promise Rita fully intended to collect on as she had little teasers written that would be published on the front page every day from now until the thirty-first in order to let people know a huge expose on the famed Boy-Who-Lived would be appearing in the Prophet.

Her current project was just the tip of the iceberg too, for this year would be Rita's year to outshine all of her fellow reporters, she had gotten exclusive permission (through the publishers of all the Harry Potter books) to write the book on Potter's life with the Dursleys that was scheduled to be published on Halloween day later in the year. It was a chance of a lifetime for Rita to move up permanently in the world, because she could live on the royalties from said book for the rest of her life.

Every sordid detail would be included in the book along with copies of each photo that had been taken of the child since he was removed from his aunt and uncle's home. She also planned on stealing copies of the transcripts from the trials as well, adding authenticity to her book; something no previous Boy-Who-Lived tale could provide.

Just the thought of the public's reaction to her second ever biography (her first one being the not so popular _Armando Dippet: Master or Moron_, published a few years earlier) had her heart racing in anticipation. A literary accomplishment that would be bigger and better than any book written to date, at least that is what it would be in Rita's mind.

_July 24, 1985 6:03 PM_

When he had been selected that morning to serve as one of the two protective guards assigned to watch over the occupied guest cave, Glorthock had been offended. He felt the duty was demeaning to his status as a veteran goblin soldier, one that would most likely be promoted to sergeant sometime in the next decade, if he distinguished himself in battle. Unfortunately, because it was a time of peace (and he was considered young for a goblin soldier) Glorthock would be lucky to see a promotion within the next hundred years. A fact that his fellow guards often taunted him about in the barracks at night.

Still, like any well trained goblin soldier, Glorthock had accepted his latest assignment without comment and had prepared to spend the day standing around in sheer boredom. His partner for the shift was an older goblin with about the same amount experience (if not less), making the other creature the leader of the team by default due to his age.

When the female human had opened the door and began speaking to the elder guard, the guard had turned to Glorthock and silently indicated for the younger goblin to investigate. Neither of the two guards spoke more than a smattering of the English language (though Glorthock knew more than the other goblin), their level of interaction with humans was practically non-existent as soldiers typically assigned to the lower levels but they both had understood the word 'healer' to mean there was a need for medicine witch. Knowing that they could not leave their post for anything less than a life threatening emergency, the senior goblin had ordered Glorthock to find out what was wrong with a flick of his finger.

Embarrassed at being ordered around by a goblin that should have been his subordinate, if not for the matter of their ages, Glorthock gruffly entered the chamber and after glancing at the woman (who appeared just fine) approached the only other human in the room. The moment he laid eyes on the silent child he grew curious as he'd never seen so young a wizard before. A single glance took in the child's pain filled posture and Glorthock was surprised for a heartbeat that the child made very little sound for an injured human. Discovering what ailed the child was a surprisingly simple issue as the boy spoke with an economy that all goblin soldiers admired, wasting no words on matters that weren't part of the issue at hand.

Glorthock was further impressed when the child showed no fear at being touched by a goblin, something the surface guards encountered frequently according to their tales. Being called 'sir' in addition to being thanked for rendering insignificant assistance shocked the young goblin to the core; he was a lowly guard, only the goblin bankers earned such respect (though they rarely ever received it from wizards). Glorthock had done the only thing he could in such a situation, he introduced himself in the goblin fashion to the human child. To his even greater surprise, the boy had immediately copied his gesture without any traces of uncertainty or hesitation and then the boy had taken his hand; he had willing made contact with him – a goblin!

It was a revelation that rocked Glorthock's belief that all humans were weak and disrespectful creatures. When he returned to his post outside the door, his partner had began questioning him in gobbledygook about what had taken so long and if there was a need to fetch the medicine witch. Glorthock simply replied that he had taken care of the matter and that was the end of the conversation as far as the other goblin was concerned.

The rest of their shift passed quickly for Glorthock as his thoughts dwelled on the human child. His mind sifting through all of the rumors and gossip that surrounded the raven haired boy he'd heard in the barracks for the last several weeks. Rumors that the child was ill or injured, that the child was full of great magics (this one came from the ceremonial guards), that the child was now considered a man in the eyes of wizards and bankers, and then there were rumors that the child had a number of enemies that would seek to do him harm. Glorthock felt a need to learn the truth and he knew there was only one way to obtain that information.

When their replacements arrived, Glorthock made his way through the winding tunnels in the opposite direction of the barracks intent on approaching the elder of the clan with his request. A request that could see him killed for what could be interpreted as treason. Without bothering to knock, Glorthock entered the office of Elder Backbiter and stood at attention with his right hand fisted over his chest.

Backbiter, War Chief and ruling Elder of the Outcast Clans, looked up in annoyance at the lowly soldier who'd entered his office without ceremony. Usually no soldier lower than a captain would dare approach him in such a manner and then only if there was an emergency or other matter of great importance. Sitting back in his stone chair, Backbiter studied the young goblin standing before him curiously, wondering what had driven him to break protocol in such a fashion.

"_Speak your peace, Soldier,"_ Backbiter ordered in gobbledygook as he gazed at him through hooded eyes.

"_I wish to make a request of the clan, Most Respected Elder."_

"_You dare disrupt me with idle chatter? You, an infant, without rank or influence?"_

"_My honor would allow me no other option, Great Elder."_

Surprised, Backbiter rose to his feet and circled the younger goblin as he considered the matter. Honor was important to goblins, more important than the riches that they so willingly hoarded deep in their underground world. After a moment, he decided he would hear the young soldier out and if it turned out to be over some trivial matter he would have the goblin beheaded for stepping above his station.

"_Speak of your request then soldier and pray you are not wasting my time."_

"_Honored Elder, I request permission to leave the ranks of the Outcast Army."_

"_You are defecting from your honored post?"_

"_No, Elder, I wish to be given leave to apply for a position outside of the caverns and bank."_

"_Are you mad child? Have you eaten of the Dragon Bane and gone crazed in the mind?"_

"_I do not think my mind has failed me yet, Elder of my Heart, but my honor demands me to seek a position as the protector of the human child-man and I would give up my place in the Army to fulfill what I now see is my sacred duty."_

"_You are barely out of nappies soldier,"_ Backbiter hissed indignantly as he stood up straighter and glared at the goblin in front of him. _"You have not yet reached your first century! How is it possible for you to have a duty outside of your clan obligations, you who have been given the honor of serving the Outcast Clan when you are clearly not old enough to think clearly!"_

"_The child-man greeted me as an equal. I would give my life to guard his life so that he might reach his potential. I am… curious… Honored Elder, I wish to know the human."_

Backbiter let his anger disperse as he considered the soldier's words; inside he was both annoyed and unsurprised. Since the day he'd agreed to provide a safe house for the human babe (for really, what is five years of life when compared to the numerous centuries a goblin will live?) his world has been nothing but upheaval. The Outcast Clans had not spent so much time above ground since Godric Gryffindor had walked the Earth, which was about the time Backbiter's grandfather had entered his first century. Backbiter personally knew how unique the child in question was when compared to other human children. The boy's magic had nearly killed an entire battalion of ceremonial guards during his inheritance ritual in addition to himself and the Director of all Gringotts; and that had been while the child's known magical reserves had been depleted to practically nothing. How much more damage might have been done had the boy had full reserves at the time, Backbiter couldn't say.

Knowing this and knowing of the small child's courage and tolerance for pain, Backbiter allowed himself to indulge the impertinent goblin standing before him. _"Explain the circumstances under which you came into contact with the child-man, considering your post would have been outside the door, and not in the room with him."_

"_The not-witch requested a healer, I was told to find out why. The child-man had strained the muscles in his arms, like a child goblin first learning to swing a sword. He allowed me to spread the salve on his arms without complaint or fear and thanked me respectfully when I left the half-full tin with him in case he should overtax himself again. I felt compelled to introduce myself and he greeted me as a goblin equal in return by introducing himself to me by mimicking my gestures. He then touched my hand of his own accord in what I have been told is a human method of greeting. I have not been able to think of anything else since that moment, even the growing rumors of the child that circulate the barracks hounded me until I stepped through your door,"_ Glorthock stated calmly as he met Backbiter's gaze without flinching. _"I would bind my fate to the human child-man for that reason."_

"_I will not grant you leave to defect from the ranks of the Outcast Armies,"_ Backbiter replied slowly as he watched the younger goblin's expression. _"However, I will give you permission to seek out the bonded father of the child and speak to him of his request. If he will allow you to serve as the boy's elite guard, you may resign from the ranks with honor. If he denies your request you will be demoted to cook's assistant for the next two hundred years."_

"_It will be as you wish, Respected Elder."_

Knowing he was dismissed, Glorthock bowed to Backbiter and backed out of the room before making his way back to the cavern where the humans were staying. The Elder goblin watched him leave pensively before turning to his fireplace and tossing in a pinch of Floo powder. When the flames turned green, he called out the address of Trevor and Klouse's office and stepped into the swirling flames.

* * *

><p>Snape paced back and forth in his cramped office muttering obscenities under his breath as he worried about his future. A pastime he'd not had to turn to since before he'd left Hogwarts after his seventh year. For four years he'd had the security of knowing that Dumbledore would protect his position regardless of how many toes he stepped on or how many little first years he made cry. Now, his job was on the line as Dumbledore's considerable reputation took a nosedive steeper than any fool on a broomstick. His very life depended upon Albus retaining his position as Headmaster for the old man had already lost his title as Chief Warlock.<p>

Hogwarts was the only sanctuary that remained open to Snape. He'd burned far too many bridges both during and after the war to be welcomed anywhere else; regardless of his qualifications as a potions master. Mad Eye Moody would pick him up in a heart beat just for general principles and Amelia would gleefully feed him enough truth serum to incapacitate a hippogriff in order to extract every last drop of information Severus had about Dumbledore, Death Eaters, and the Dark Lord. The pair of them would violate his darkest secrets and expose his deepest fears without so much as a by your leave if given half a chance.

How he'd not been forced to stand trial for his verbal abuse of the wretched Potter brat was beyond him, though he suspected that Dumbledore had once again stepped in on his behalf. It wouldn't have been the first time; after all, like Lucius Malfoy and the bastard Black, Snape hadn't sat for a trial at the end of the war because of Dumbledore vouching for him. If Dumbledore was unable to continue to shield him he'd have to flee the country or he'd end up spending the rest of his life in Azkaban where his fellow Death Eaters would kill him for his supposed defection from the Death Eater ranks

Only the Dark Lord knew that he'd been ordered to infiltrate Hogwarts and Dumbledore's group in order to spy on the old man and those who followed him. Snape knew it had been a test of his loyalty to the Dark Lord, one he had passed with flying colors as Dumbledore believed that Snape had truly changed sides. He'd managed to convince the senile old fool that he'd truly regretted selling his soul to the Dark Lord (which he did to a point since he wasn't overly fond of being tortured for even the slightest failure) and any guilt he felt over selling out his childhood friend had been absolved because Dumbledore said it had been. On the flip side, the Dark Lord believed him to unquestioningly loyal to the cause when in truth; Snape was loyal to no one but himself.

Once he'd convinced Dumbledore of his change of heart, Severus had only passed along what information his master had requested him to feed Dumbledore. It was one of the reasons that the Dark Lord had been winning the war so easily because Snape's handfed lies turned Dumbledore's attention away from the real focus of the Death Eater's efforts. Of course, Snape had also withheld a certain amount of information from the Dark Lord in return which allowed certain individuals to escape; if only to prevent Dumbledore from questioning his loyalty. Being a spy was no easy task and it required one to walk a knife's edge; especially when both of your masters were insane madmen.

Now, with the Dark Lord vanquished by the half blood brat, there was no one within the ranks of the Death Eaters that knew Snape was Voldemort's double agent planted in Dumbledore's midst; though Severus was sure Lucius suspected as much. And Dumbledore's current precarious position meant that the security he had enjoyed for the last four years could be pulled out from under his feet at any time. If only the Dark Lord had not fallen on that long ago night, then Snape would not be forced to skulk in shadows like some common criminal. _If wishes were gold then I'd be able to buy my freedom as easily as a Malfoy_, Snape thought to himself as he paused beside his fireplace. _Of course, if it wasn't for Malfoy's arrogance in attempting the ceremony alone my position would not be as tenuous as it is right now._.

With that thought, Snape whirled around and continued pacing; once more cursing the continued existence of James and Lily Potter's child.

* * *

><p>Amelia couldn't believe how quickly everything had gone south in the wizarding world once word leaked of Harry's treatment at the hands of his relatives. Actually, she almost could, considering she'd lived through the process, the thing that made it all surreal was the corruption she'd found within the Ministry. And the worst part is she didn't know if it was left over corruption from the end of the war or something entirely new that started after the war had ended. Either way, it would take time to weed out all the chaff and get things running smoothly again. In the mean time, Amelia was suffering with a near constant migraine.<p>

The new investigation that Trevor wanted to launch was only going to complicate matters further. Not that Amelia blamed the man; she'd be incised if her niece's life had been exploited in a similar manner. Although she, personally, would be out for blood in a similar situation if it involved family. She realized now Mr. Potter was being exploited, his face and story being used by someone for the sole purpose of making money off the child hero. Finding out who was going to be extremely difficult, or was it?

Inspiration struck Amelia from out of the blue and the smile that crept across her face would have put the fear of god in even the most dedicated Death Eater. Pulling all of the money from her robe pocket, Amelia began layering the individual coins with tracking, locating, and signal charms. She then placed an inverted ward around each one to hide the charms and her magical signature from most diagnostic charms. The final step was linking each coin to a monitoring quill that she set up in the corner of her office behind several privacy and protection wards. A quick letter to Backbiter and another to Trevor, both warded for their eyes only, were then handed to a pair of ministry house elves for delivery as the contents were too sensitive to be sent via owl. Scooping up the assorted gold, silver, and bronze coins, Amelia dumped them in an evidence bag and tucked them in her pocket before heading out to Diagon Alley.

She knew spending her special coins in one of the stores that sold the merchandise wouldn't send the coins to where she wanted them to go. The sickles would most likely be handed out as change to the first customer that purchased an item after her and the galleons most likely would be placed in the store's vault at the end of the day. So instead of buying any of the Harry Potter merchandise from a shop, she instead went to the store that carried the most Potter Products and picked up a several copies of the supplier's mail order catalog that the store's manager kept on hand for avid fans.

Her next stop was Gringotts, where she withdrew another fifty galleons, one hundred sickles, and two hundred knuts that she would take back to her office and charm similarly to the ones in her pocket. She'd just finished linking the additional coins to individual quills when Trevor and Backbiter entered her office at the same time.

"Hello Trev, Backbiter," Amelia greeted. "I trust you both got my letter? Wonderful, this is how I plan on tracking down the responsible parties…" She went on to explain the elaborate plan she came up with and how she was going to follow the charmed coins. Backbiter was both impressed and furious (it was goblin coins being used in such a manner after all) but added his own wards and charms to the money so the goblins at the bank wouldn't interfere. Trevor also offered to convert several hundred pounds of his own savings into wizarding money so a second trial could be sent independently so as to provide a greater chance of catching the one (or ones) responsible.

Backbiter offered to create a hundred or more fictitious names through Gringotts so that the merchandise ordered with the coins could be directed to a single location. Amelia jumped on the offer, immediately seeing the benefits of holding onto any items purchased by the monitored coins. The three of them spent another hour ironing out any wrinkles in the plan before breaking up the impromptu meeting with Trevor promising to bring her the additional money first thing in the morning.

Trevor and Backbiter then took the Floo back to Trevor's office where the two quasi friends went back to their own meeting that had been interrupted by the summons they'd received from Amelia. The squib and the Outcast goblin had been working on creating several employment contracts for the various security guards and tutors that Trevor intended to hire to protect, teach, and train Harry everything he'd need to know over the next six to ten years. This included one for Leticia, who had already been informally hired by Trevor to teach Harry the basics.

Each contract would be magically binding, even for squibs and muggles who had little to no magic of their own. The major points of each contract were salary, housing accommodations (if needed), subject matter that any given tutor would be required to teach, the weekly number of hours each tutor would spend with the child, a set time frame in which they had to teach the subject, and a binding privacy oath to prevent them from speaking of their time spent with Harry to the press or public in general. There were also clauses that covered subject changes or increases, time extensions, pay adjustments, or early release from the contract in case of emergencies or other extenuating circumstances.

Klouse joined them around nine and the small group formalized the contracts by copying the finished form onto special legal parchments and pouring both goblin and wizarding magic into them to charge the imbedded runes that would activate the oath and money transfers when signed by the new employee using a blood quill. Trevor then gathered up the various documents (there were several copies of at least a dozen different contracts), minus one, and tucked them into his briefcase.

Klouse excused himself at this point leaving the other two by themselves once more. Backbiter watched after the now unseen wizard for a few minutes before turning to face Trevor.

"Have you given any thought to my suggestion?"

"Yes, Backbiter, it's been in the back of my mind since you first brought it up earlier this evening," Trevor replied as he fingered the final contract. "I never would have considered it a month ago but after that attack on Harry by Malfoy… I have to admit to myself that I am inadequate when it comes to protecting him. We can't live within the bank forever, I'm sure some of the clans believe we've overstayed our welcome as it is. But will a single goblin be enough?"

"If I didn't know you as well as I do, I'd be offended by your doubt of a single guard's ability to protect one charge. However, Mr. Potter is hardly an ordinary charge and I know you were not making light of my soldier's abilities. Glorthock is impressive, according to his trainers; he's young but dedicated and determined. That he broke a hundred rules and protocols in approaching me speaks of his courage. He is still just one goblin, though, as you so rightly pointed out."

"Yes, even the most dedicated soldier needs to sleep. We might as well head back to the bank seeing as we've nothing more to do here." Trevor rose to his feet, grabbed his briefcase and the final contract, and followed Backbiter to the Floo connection within one of the conference rooms.

A quick jump through the fireplace landed them inside Backbiter's office, where the goblin dug a black eagle feather quill out of his desk. The mismatched pair then made their way through the tunnels to the guest cavern where they entered to find Leticia writing a letter to her parents while Harry slept fitfully. Trevor approached the bed and tenderly ran his fingers through Harry's hair until the child calmed and fell into a deeper, more peaceful rest. Smiling warmly down at the boy, Trevor brushed a kiss across the child's brow before taking a seat beside Leticia.

When she looked up at him over her half written letter, he smiled in greeting before handing her the rolled parchment in his hands. "I had intended on having this ready for you sooner but other commitments always seemed to get in the way. Please, take a few minutes to look it over and then we'll discuss any questions you have before we sign."

The next twenty or so minutes were spent in complete silence while Leticia read through the contract noting which sections were filled in and which ones were left blank. When she finished, she set the parchment down and frowned over at Trevor as she tried to process what she'd just read. "You're offering me a salary of seven hundred and fifty pounds per week? Are you mad! That's far too much given the fact that I've not yet completed my QTS. I also don't understand why you've left the occupational title empty. You've asked me to be his tutor no?"

"The salary we can discuss in a moment," Trevor hedged as he leaned forward and flattened out the contact. "The reason I left the job title and duties blank is because we only briefly discussed them previously. I felt it best to offer you a choice. I intend to hire a qualified healer to monitor Harry's health on a daily basis once I have secured a relatively safe and remote location, the visits will of course taper off once Harry has finished his bone treatments. Whether I hire a nanny or not will depend upon which official position you wish to accept. As a simple tutor you'd not be required to live with us but could instead commute to the house five days a week if you wished. If you were to accept a position as Harry's governess, than I'd forgo hiring a full-time nanny and you'd be one of Harry's daily minders with formal classes required five days a week, which would mean that you'd be living with us full time."

"Should you accept the governess position, you'd have full access to both trust funds I am setting up for all of Harry's schooling needs; these would be available for books, writing supplies, learning props, and anything else required including transportation funds for field trips. If you only wish to tutor Harry part time, you'd have to submit requests for the school supplies and schedule field trips with any nanny or governess I hire to oversee Harry during the hours you are not tutoring him. Another difference between the two positions is that as Harry's governess you'd be in charge of his overall education; meaning that you'd be responsible for scheduling his weekly classes, monitoring the tutors hired for any subject you are not personally teaching, and determining when to add the more advanced classes or introduce new subject matter. If you didn't wish to dedicate that much time, as I realize you have your own life to live, then I'd simply hire a part time governess to oversee his general education and coordinate the tutoring schedules in conjunction with a nanny."

"Why do things seem to grow more complicated every time we seem to have a plan in place?" Leticia asked rhetorically.

"Because this is the life of Harry Potter and his life will grow far more complicated as he grows older," Trevor stated dryly as he fondly glanced over at the sleeping boy in question. "His legal status as an adult in the wizarding world complicates matters further, given that he will have obligations he will be required to fulfill once his health permits him more freedom of movement. This will include social functions, political events, public appearances, press releases, and financial management of his vast estate."

"How many tutors are you planning on hiring, exactly?"

"Roughly a total of thirty or so but they will not all be working with Harry at once. Most likely there will be three to five tutors working with him on a yearly basis and the individuals hired for any given year will reflect Harry's progress as a student. This is including those tutors he will need for his magical education."

"How is that going to work? Will witches and wizards have issue taking directions and orders from a muggle such as myself if I choose to accept the governess position?"

"You would be coordinating the schedules with the other tutors, to avoid scheduling conflicts, and their cooperation with you will be a requirement for employment. I will not hire a witch or wizard that will corrupt Harry with needless prejudices against any race or species regardless of magical abilities. That includes working with squibs, muggles, goblins, or foreign citizens to teach him various foreign languages and cultures. I won't lie, the position of governess will be complicated and far more involved than that of a simple tutor but I suspect that you would be more than up to the challenge if you should accept. It all boils down to how much of a part you want in Harry's life. Up till now you've been heavily involved and I know you genuinely enjoy spending time with him, one of the biggest reasons I'm offering you a choice of positions as I know I can trust you."

"Is that why you offered such a high salary?"

"No, the salary I've listed is for the tutoring position. If you accept the governess position I'd increase the salary by another two to three hundred pounds."

"Why?"

"There are three reasons; first, it entails a considerable amount of work. The second reason is that you will be required to maintain a wardrobe that suitably reflects Harry's place in society; think of him as a young noble, for while he is not of the nobility and he holds no title, he is a celebrity and as such he is a public figure. You will most likely find yourself attending various functions and in the spotlight due to your title as governess. The third and final reason is that I wish to compensate you for everything you have done and have lost due to becoming involved in the chaos that is Harry's life. Almost bribery, if I'm honest, because I wish to give you no reason to turn down my offer. I think Harry needs you in his life, you've become a sort of mother figure to him and for him to lose you now could be devastating to his still fragile emotional state."

Leticia laughed soft and low at the admission to attempted bribery before letting her amusement fade into the background while she seriously considered how much of her future she wished to invest in the growing relationship to the endearing boy that had captured her curiosity a year earlier. She wasn't afraid of hard work, her chosen career as a teacher wasn't a cake walk after all, it required dedication, self motivation, and an endless supply of patience. Outside of her former job; she really had no social life so she wouldn't need to worry about leaving behind a boyfriend or other close friends. Could she spend the next several years devoted entirely to one child? If it was just any child, she didn't think she'd say yes, but Harry was special.

"We'd previously discussed the possibility of a flexible schedule that would allow me to finish my education while tutoring Harry," Leticia pointed out slowly as she leaned towards a decision. "How would that work if I accepted the governess position? What about time off for personal reasons? Who would watch over Harry while I was visiting family or in the event I get sick?"

"You would still be able to continue your education, scheduling your lessons around your classes would not be an issue. As for your other concerns; I could assign one of the tutors as an assistant of sorts, one who could sub for you during vacation or sick leave and in the event a family emergency occurs. If you need some more time to think it over, please don't hesitate to say so. We don't have to finalize the contract right this minute."

"No, it's not that. I'm almost certain of which position I'd prefer. I'm just worried about how my parents will react and what kind of social stigmas I could expect should I accept. I realize modern perceptions have changed since the concept of a live-in governess was conceived but people still talk and gossip."

"Let me set your mind at ease on that account," Trevor insisted matter-of-factly. "While modern muggle society still looks unfavorably upon women who choose to accept a live-in position as a governess, the magical society holds such women in high esteem due to the significance of a child's importance in our society. There are some notable exceptions but they are not representative of the whole population. You will also not be the only woman employed within the household, as I expect to hire enough people to take care of the grounds and house. A few cooks, gardeners, maids, a butler or two, and several security guards for protection are just a few of the positions I'd need to fill. While none of those jobs are gender specific, I fully expect both men and woman to apply for them and that doesn't include any of the tutors I will hire."

"Your reputation shall not be put at risk by myself or any employee I hire. I have no desire to form any romantic relationships at this point in my life and quite frankly my heart firmly belongs to my beloved wife, though she no longer walks among the living. No offense intended but I think of you more as a younger sister or cousin in that I am comfortable in your presence but don't expect anything more to develop between us."

Leticia blushed bright red over the topic being discussed but inside she felt relief. "Thank you, that does make my decision a bit easier. No offense taken, to tell the truth, I would have felt uncomfortable if you'd been inclined to think of me romantically, you're practically old enough to be my father after all."

Trevor laughed at the fairly accurate description of their age difference and flashed an easy grin towards the younger woman. Leticia returned the smile with one of her own as one of her biggest concerns was put to rest.

"Does that mean you are accepting the governess position?"

"Yes, though we are going to discuss the bloated salary before we sign anything."

"Oh?"

"Oh yes, while I understand the need for me to be able to acquire a suitable wardrobe, I do not need to be paid nearly twice the average wages for a governess in order to purchase clothes or the means to make my own."

"I am going to disagree, because the money just isn't to cover any new clothes you require. Your duties will be many and the salary reflects the management of Harry's educational needs in addition to supervising the other tutors. After a few months you may well be wishing you'd asked for more."

"It would be more logical to start out lower and earn wage increases over time, for all you know I might be so horrible in organization skills that you wish to have me fired before a year has passed."

"You do realize that you two are arguing your positions backwards, do you not?" Backbiter inserted before Trevor could respond to Leticia's rebuttal.

"You know, he has a point," Trevor said as he sat back and glanced at the confused goblin. "Goblins are known for their fierce bargaining skills and he did help me set the overall wages for each class of tutor. You'll be happy to know he talked me down from a starting wage of fifteen hundred pounds for the governess position."

"In that case I owe you a debt of gratitude for protecting my health, Backbiter," Lettie announced solemnly. "I would have surely died of a heart attack if he'd offered me that much of a salary for the position. As it is, I will take the seven-fifty as defined in the contract."

"Actually, for the governess position, it is an even thousand pounds a week."

"No."

"Yes, you will receive the original seven fifty in pounds sterling and an additional one hundred fifty galleons (which is just over three hundred pounds with current exchange rates) on top of that. Before you argue, keep in mind that you will need to purchase wizarding clothes from time to time for some of the functions you will attend as Harry's governess."

"Why can't I just convert pounds to galleons as needed?"

"You could, but it is far easier to not have to visit the bank every time you need a few galleons to purchase a new robe or other accessory. Plus the conversion fees do add up quickly, especially when you exchange nominal amounts on a frequent basis. This way, you avoid the extra fees and have a ready supply of wizarding money to spend when you are in the wizarding world. It will draw less attention to your activities as well."

"I still say it's too much."

"If you still feel that way after a year, we can renegotiate your contract," Trevor offered as a compromise.

Leticia nodded reluctantly and watched as Backbiter made the appropriate adjustments to the contract. Once the goblin was finished he passed the document to Trevor who signed his name using the black eagle feather. Leticia's eyes grew wide as she took in the fact that the signature was written in blood.

Trevor, when he noticed her pale face and shocked expression, calmly explained, "This is a magical contract, as such each party is required to sign in blood in order to make it binding. This quill is called a contract quill or a legal quill and draws the blood painlessly from your index finger as you write. Not to be confused with a blood quill; which painfully carves the words into the back of the writer's hand. It is a touch gruesome, by muggle standards but the blood is what holds all who sign the contract to following the terms. I promise, it won't hurt and will not leave a single scar."

Tentatively, Leticia reached out and accepted the magical writing utensil and with a trembling hand signed her own name at the bottom of the contract. She felt a tiny warmth in the tip of her finger as she wrote and a slight tingle running down her spine once she lifted the quill from the paper. Shuddering, she quickly gave the quill to the goblin and rubbed her finger unconsciously while she watched Backbiter sign as witness. A glance down at the finger in question showed no signs of an injury to her relief.

"An account will be set up here in Gringotts for your wizarding salary by the end of the week," Backbiter announced formally as he copied the contract four times; one copy each for Leticia, Trevor, the Ministry of magic, and himself with the original to be stored in the bank's contract vault. "You will also receive a silver key to the trust vault set aside for Harry's schooling needs, to be used strictly for his wizarding supplies. I trust you will make other arrangements for the muggle salary and the muggle trust account?"

"I… uh, yes, I guess," Leticia confirmed uncertainly as she glanced towards Trevor.

"I can cut you a weekly check, pay you in cash twice a month, or make arrangements for a direct deposit to an existing account. It is up to you."

"Direct deposit would be easiest. I have the routing and account numbers in my purse."

"That will be fine; we can take care of that tomorrow and have your back pay deposited before the weekend. I will also need to add your name onto the muggle trust account I set up for Harry with my bank so we can get you both a debit card and a checkbook with which you can purchase supplies and pay for field trips. I also intend to set up a small petty cash fund for the little things."

"If we are finished now, I will bid you goodnight. Either one of the guards will send a runner for Glorthock when you are ready to speak with him."

"Goodnight, Backbiter, I thank you for your assistance and wish you riches enough to line your coffers for the rest of your life," Trevor responded. "But unless I am mistaken, Glorthock is already waiting just outside the door."

Sure enough, the young goblin had been patiently waiting for Backbiter to finish his business before entering the room to make his appeal to Trevor in regards to being Harry's personal bodyguard. The Outcast War Chief eyed his subordinate critically for several minutes before leaving, his look alone letting the young soldier know he hadn't forgotten the agreement they'd made earlier in the day.


	14. Establishing Permanency

**Disclaimer: **_All HP characters are the property of JKR, the WB, and respective publishing companies - this is nothing more than a simple FanFiction that I have written. I have made no money from this or any of the other stories I have posted on this or other sites._

**AN:** _Story beta'd by my R/L daughter Sillyhobbit_.

* * *

><p><em><strong><span>Chapter 14: Establishing Permanency<span>**_

_July 25, 1985 12:13 AM_

Trevor returned to his seat as Glorthock entered the room and approached him. He kept his face free of emotion as the young goblin bowed to him before making his request in stilted English, his grammar and wording lacking the refinement the older goblin displayed due to his limited command of the language.

"I want offer me as guard to child-man."

"On what qualifications?" Trevor inquired as he gave the goblin his complete attention, taking care not to speak too fast.

"What is qualiflitations?"

"Qual-i-fi-ca-tions," Trevor enunciated carefully, so the goblin could hear the syllables in the unfamiliar word. Having discussed this earlier with Backbiter, he was aware that Glorthock wasn't fluent in English and would have some difficulties in communicating. Backbiter specifically requested that Trevor not request a translator unless the younger goblin supplied one of his own free will; this had more to do with goblin pride and honor than anything else and Trevor readily understood the reasoning for not making such a request. It was never wise to shame a goblin or allow him to believe you thought him weak. "It means skills and assets."

"I is warrior. I give my blood for child."

"Blood?"

"Blood is all. Blood is breath. I know not word. Blood is not dead."

"Ah, you would give your life to Mr. Potter?"

"Life? Yes, I would give life blood to guard boy."

Trevor gave a single nod to show he understood the goblin's meaning but he floundered a bit as he struggled with how to phrase his next question. He knew only a few key expressions in gobbledygook and those dealt more with banking matters than soldiering. It was the first time in a long time he felt out of his depths and while he didn't like the feeling his greatest worry was insulting the goblin in front of him.

"Mr. Potter will spend quite a bit of time around muggles, how can you protect him then?"

"I good sneak," Glorthock bragged somewhat, though he didn't sound as sure of himself as he had when he first approached Backbiter with his request. Part of it was because he was not certain he completely understood all that he was being asked and he felt frustrated with his own lack of fluency with the language. Not wanting to risk a failure, he swallowed his pride and added, "Need help speak, some words not know. Be back."

Trevor murmured his willingness to wait and felt a small wave of relief over the fact that the goblin willingly recognized the difficulties that they were both experiencing in communicating their thoughts. While he waited for Glorthock to return with a translator, he pulled out two different contracts that could be applied to the position Glorthock was interested in. Both of them had been written out mostly by Backbiter and contained far more job duty descriptions, legal stipulations, and binding oaths than the simple tutoring and other employment contracts that Trevor had drawn up.

About fifteen minutes after he left, Glorthock returned with an elderly goblin dressed in a banker's suit. A quick introduction was made before the three of them sat down to begin formal negotiations.

"Glorthock wishes to apply for the position of bodyguard for Harry Potter based upon what he feels is his duty to the child for treating him as an equal. You are aware of this through discussions with the Clan Elder Backbiter, yes?" Stonegut, the elderly goblin, said.

"Yes, I was told of his request. We had been discussing his qualifications and ability to protect Mr. Potter when he is in the company of muggles who do not know of the magical world."

Glorthock chattered away in gobbledygook to Stonegut for several minutes once the older goblin had translated the statement.

"Glorthock is a fully trained goblin warrior, in both magic and weaponry, which can protect the child-man from all threats. He is not afraid of dying to protect his charge. He will also be able to hide his goblin features during any forays into the non-wizard world and he swears to follow the boy no matter where he goes."

Turning to address Glorthock, for goblins detested being spoken about as if they didn't exist, Trevor asked, "Would you be willing work with muggles, squibs, and wizards on a daily basis?"

"What kind of duties would require him to work alongside humans?"

"I am hiring tutors to train and teach Harry what he needs to know. I have already hired Miss Hall as Harry's governess and she will be in charge of scheduling Harry's training in addition to scheduling trips to various locations for educational purposes. There is also the matter of who will watch over Mr. Potter while you sleep or on the days you might wish to spend away from your duties."

As the two goblins discussed this, Glorthock's confidence waned a bit more for he had not given any thought to sharing his duties as Harry's bodyguard with anyone else. He understood the need for additional guards; he just felt that he had failed his new friend (and he was a bit shocked to discover that he already considered the man in a child's body a friend) in being unable to handle what he considered his solemn duty. In the end, he knew he had no choice if he wished to convince the man to hire him.

"He will work with humans, if they will treat him as an equal. Have you already hired a captain of the guard or other guards already?"

"Any employee I hire will be required to treat their fellow employees with respect regardless of species, blood, or magical status. Those who hold others in contempt will not be hired due to Harry's sensitivity when dealing with prejudices that belittle another person or being. He is young, has been through a rough time, and would suffer if constantly exposed to harsh attitudes and constant conflict. I don't see him as weak, and he won't be coddled, but he needs stability; which means anyone working with or around him needs to be able to function as a team. As of right now, the only position I have filled is that of governess, as I mentioned earlier. So, no, I have not hired any other bodyguards as of yet. I confess, until Backbiter approached me this afternoon I had not given much thought to hiring any security guards."

After another brief discussion, Stonegut state, "Glorthock wishes to know how many guards you will be hiring."

Trevor was expecting this to come up, it was one of the things Backbiter had mentioned after explaining Glorthock's original request and the War Chief had recommended that Trevor test the young goblin by making the young goblin provide the answer to the question. Immediately after that bit of advice, Backbiter had offered several suggestions of his own on the number of guards needed in order to give the squib an idea of the numbers needed for a security team to work effectively. "If you were hired to staff the security team, how many guards would you suggest I hire to securely guard any house Mr. Potter lived at in addition to watching over him while he made public appearances?"

This sparked another debate in gobbledygook as Glorthock pulled out a piece of parchment and began making some calculations while explaining his ideas to the translator. While the young soldier had not expected to be asked his opinion on the matter, he was more than prepared to answer the question. He had over sixty years of training as a goblin solider after all and scenarios like the one Trevor had presented had come up more than once during his lessons.

"Glorthock would suggest a minimum of one hundred guards, depending on where the house was located, how far the property extended, and how close the nearest neighbor lived. The larger the size of property the higher number of guards that would be needed to monitor the grounds, even with extensive protective wards in place," Stonegut offered before turning to clarify a few points with the young soldier. "He also suggests doubling that number if you live in a crowded city because of the higher number of possible threats. The number of guards assigned to accompany the child during any venture off of the property would depend upon the destination, the number of people expected to be attending the event in question, and whether or not there are any known threats that could easily be in the vicinity. Only a portion of the guards would be housed on location so that if an attack is launched in the property, backup can be brought in quickly or the child can be moved to a safe house that is already well protected without worrying about cutting his escort guard in thirds to protect the retreat and prepare a destination while still keeping the child safe."

Trevor smiled slowly and nodded thoughtfully while he unrolled both of the contracts. He flipped them both around and pushed them over to Glorthock while explaining why there was two, "This contract," he pointed to the one on his right, "is the agreement that Backbiter wrote for the rank and file bodyguards I will need to hire in order to create three full squads of approximately fifty to sixty guards each. Each security guard will be scheduled to work eight to ten hour shifts four days a week, with overtime allowed during emergencies or special events. Salary for non-officers starts at one hundred fifty galleons a week."

"This second contract," Trevor now indicated the document on his left, "is for the officers I intend to hire to oversee the entire security team; one captain, three lieutenants, six corporals, and sixteen sergeants. Starting pay for the officers begins at one hundred seventy-five galleons a week for the sergeants while the captain will start at about three hundred twenty-five galleons a week. Housing and food will be provided to all members of the security team, as will uniforms and weaponry. Both contracts are renewable on a yearly basis with promotions offered periodically for those individuals who show exceptional leadership skills. After the first year, there will be an option of signing a five year contract. Please read through both contracts and we can discuss any questions you have in the morning before we go any further."

"I am offered chance to serve?" Glorthock asked in English as he looked up from the two contracts with puzzled eyes.

"Yes, I am offering you the job. The job you take, if you accept, will be entirely up to you, which is why I gave you both contacts."

Glorthock bowed to Trevor before passing the contracts to Stonegut as the two goblins exited the chamber. Trevor shook his head and yawned before making his way over to the stone bench he'd been using as a bed for the last month and pulling a change of clothes out from beneath the bed. He then made his way to the bathroom and prepared for bed while thinking about everything he'd accomplished today. Once he finished changing; he returned to his bench, slipped under the covers, and drifted off to sleep wondering what the rest of the week would bring.

The next morning Glorthock returned with both contracts and a legal quill, this one made from a deep maroon hippogriff feather; with him were six even younger goblins who wore the uniforms of unranked clan soldiers. Backbiter and Stonegut joined them a few minutes later and neither of the elder goblins seemed surprised to see the additional younglings that had joined Glorthock.

"All parties are in agreement?" Stonegut inquired as he took the contracts and quill from Glorthock.

"Yes," the seven younger goblins replied all together.

Trevor, who'd only woken up a few minutes earlier, simply inclined his head when the elderly goblin looked in his direction.

"Then let us sign the contracts."

Trevor signed both contracts in the space provided and watched impassively as Glorthock signed the officer's parchment as a lieutenant and the accompanying goblin youths signed the other contract. The lawyer was a little surprised that Glorthock didn't take the higher rank but surmised the former soldier felt reticent about taking a title he hadn't felt he earned. Stonegut and Backbiter then witnessed both contracts and made copies, this time leaving the originals with Trevor so that additional security guards and officers could be hired (any signature added to the original automatically appearing on the copies due to the magics involved). Trevor then welcomed each goblin to the team individually and asked Glorthock to introduce the others to Harry and Leticia.

"I would ask another boon of you friend," Backbiter stated once the seven guards had crowded around Harry's bed.

"Before a morning coffee?" Trevor joked as he tucked the signed contracts into his briefcase.

"The younglings Glorthock recruited speak less of your language than Glorthock; they will require tutoring so that they may interact with humans as needed. I would ask you to hire a translator to help teach them English and a few other human languages."

"I'm guessing you have someone in mind?"

"Yes, he asked me if I would offer my services," Stonegut interrupted in near politeness. "I have drawn up a tentative contract for myself and my wizard assistant." The translator slid another parchment across the table.

"Might I ask why you are seeking employment outside of the bank? I can understand the restlessness of the younger goblins and the excitement of doing something new and different, I can even understand Glorthock's since of duty and connection but I'm not certain why you'd be willing to relocate with the others."

"Glorthock and Glarthunk are my sister's sons. She has expressed concern over their seemingly reckless decision and she wished for me to watch over them and help them as best I could. I do as she asked because I am fond of the two younglings and because it is my wish to continue their studies personally."

"I can respect that, Stonegut, and I thank you for your honesty. Would you consider expanding your duties to include one more student and an additional language?"

"What did you have in mind and who is the student?"

Leaning back, Trevor paused for a moment to gather his thoughts before presenting his proposal to the curious and hesitant goblin. "As you might recall from our negotiations last night, I mentioned hiring tutors for young Mr. Potter. One such tutor would be required to teach him other languages, such as French and Latin. It would be beneficial, for both Harry and the goblins that guard him, if he were to learn gobbledygook as well. He is at an age where learning multiple languages will be easiest for him and the challenge would help occupy his time in between his other studies."

"You wish the child to learn our language?" Backbiter asked, surprised.

"Yes, I would have asked you about the possibility of hiring a tutor in about a year but since you approached me about the needs of Harry's new security team, I felt it prudent to broach the matter now."

"I see. Stonegut?"

"I would not mind spending time with the child-man, I find myself curious as to why my sister's youngest two sons are drawn to the boy, Glorthock especially."

Changes were added into the new contract and the document signed once a salary had been negotiated (two hundred galleons a week for tutoring the goblin guards and an additional one hundred and fifty a week for tutoring Harry in gobbledygook.

"Did I introduce you to Ms. Hall? She's Harry's governess and will be scheduling his classes with his various tutors in time. Right now, the lessons are fairly informal given that he is still recovering and only just now beginning any type of structured education and is still learning the basics. Leticia, will you please join me for a moment? Leticia this is Stonegut, Stonegut this is Leticia Hall. Stonegut has just agreed to tutor Harry in gobbledygook, the language of the goblins, while working with the new security goblins on improving their grasp of the English language."

Leticia greeted the old goblin warmly and the two wandered off discussing the types of supplies and books that Harry would need for his new lessons and when would be the best time to start the new class. Trevor shook his head and smiled bemusedly before facing Backbiter once more. "Any other goblins you'd like to encourage me to hire?"

"Yes, but they can wait for a while. Let us hunt down a hot coffee pot and cure you of the befuddlement that seems to have surrounded you this morning."

"I hope the next group will at least be warders or curse breakers, I'm going to need someone to help me secure a few houses once I find something that will work."

"Why purchase new? Why not see what is available through the Potter Estate?"

"Two reasons. First, is accessibility and location; the house will have to be outside of the crowded city and be reachable through both magical and muggle methods. Second reason is that there are enough witches and wizards that know where each and every one of the Potter houses and mansions are located and there are more than a few that might expect Harry to move into one of the existing houses. My house in Esher, for the obvious reasons, would not make a good primary home either. It can however, be warded and used as a base and a quasi safe house by the security teams as can the Potter cottage in Godric's Hollow, provided it remains in livable condition. Now, about that coffee?"

"Follow me; the kitchen was brewing a fresh cauldron when I passed by earlier. How far outside of civilization did you wish to go to find a house?"

"Not too terribly far but moving north I think, to get away from Surrey. I was thinking either Norfolk or Suffolk, possibly somewhere outside of Holt or around Halesworth; somewhere fairly close to the coast at any rate in order to provide what I believe is a much needed change of scenery."

"Seems an odd couple of choices, nothing remotely magical in either county and off the beaten path for the most part," Backbiter noted as he led Trevor into a larger stone cavern where a good twenty or thirty goblin women (and the occasional goblin boy under the age of thirty) were cooking breakfast. The goblin Elder poured two cups of coffee and handed one to Trevor before gathering up a serving tray piled high with goblin delicacies to take back to the guest cave, though a young female goblin in a cook's apron whisked the tray out of his hands before he reached the door and followed the pair without a word.

"That's one of the reasons I was looking out in that direction. The Ministry expects Harry to be one of three places, in London, in Wales, or in Scotland some where near Hogwarts. If not in one of those places, they'd at least expect him to end up somewhere surrounded by magicals. So, logically, the best place for us to make our home would be somewhere that is not anywhere they want or suspect we would be. Dumbledore might deduce our location logically but we've effectively neutered him politically (both nationally and internationally) so that even if he did know where Harry lived, he couldn't really do much about it. Logistically speaking, the Ministry and anyone connected to Lucius and the other former Death Eaters still running free are the bigger concern at the moment."

"Preparing multiple homes for residency, as you mentioned in passing, will most likely throw them off as well," Backbiter knowingly interjected. "I know of some property in Ashwicken, Norfolk that might still be available. I believe it to be an older farmhouse with some land, nestled in one of the farming districts."

"That could be worth investigating; it's not too far from King's Lynn and close enough to the coast that the occasional trip would be feasible. What else do you know of the property and why do I have the suspicion you already knew I was looking out that way?"

"Klouse mentioned your intentions in passing last week and I had one of my more reputable warders checking out secluded properties in that direction. The house was renovated twenty years ago and was owned by a muggle widower who passed away two years ago without any remaining family. It's been on the market since then, with few muggles interested in purchasing what they call a white elephant. Why they speak of such a beast when buying old houses I will never know. The main house has six bedrooms, a cellar, and an old hayloft for an attic, there is also a small one bedroom cottage attached to the stables. The original land surrounding the house was sold off earlier but I am told the neighbor who purchased might be willing to sell if the price is right. The original size of the property was fifty acres prior to the land being sold; the house now sits on a ten acre lot with the portion of land that had been sold off sitting directly behind the new, smaller lot."

"What kind of condition are the buildings in?"

"The cottage and stables are fairly run down; both having been unoccupied since well before the renovations to the house were made in the nineteen-sixties. The main house is livable but it appears fairly primitive according to the warder who investigated the property. The low level of muggle tecknoalogy in and around the house and immediate land makes it an ideal property for warding."

"Asking price?"

"Around four hundred thousand pounds, with the neighbor looking for about the same amount for the fallow land that originally belonged to the farm."

"More than I would have liked but not too terribly out of my range. Given its existing state, we could probably talk them down quite a bit due to the length of time it has been on the market. As for the land, prime acreage in Norfolk is averaging about five thousand pounds an acre so forty acres of arable land wouldn't be worth more than two hundred thousand, if that. If the land is overly poor pasture than it isn't worth more than fifteen hundred an acre; which means whoever is selling it couldn't expect more than eighty thousand. Which begs one to ask why the person selling has an asking price that is two to four times more than market value?"

"It is possible he is selling off more than just the original forty acres or he is in a considerable amount of debt and is trying to make what money he can off the only thing of value he has," Backbiter suggested as they reentered the guest cavern to find Harry sitting on Glorthock's shoulders while the other six young goblins danced and chanted in a circle around them.

Harry was giggling, a small smile on his face, while Leticia looked completely confused and Stonegut glared at the spectacle from the other side of the room. "What are they doing?" Trevor asked curiously as he leaned down towards Backbiter so as not to disrupt the chanting.

"Dancing. A frivolous activity that involves moving one's body and feet to the beat of the music or simply in a set pattern of prescribed positions. I'm sure you've heard of it before," Backbiter dryly explained.

Trevor laughed loudly, drawing Harry's attention and causing the goblin guards to halt their festivities when they caught sight of Backbiter. "You should join them, Backbiter," Trevor announced mischievously as he accepted the tray of food from the goblin woman standing behind them. "After all, with the commission you will make on the sale of the farm house, which I already know you purchased with clan funds, you will have increased your coffers by eight percent. If you can bring the asking price of the accompanying land down to under two hundred thousand, unless he's selling significantly more than the original forty in which case I'll pay the asking price, then that will be an additional two percent profit."

Backbiter just laughed and gestured for the goblins to go back to what they were doing, much to the delight of Harry, who was secretly enjoying the antics of the goblins. Stonegut made one final sour face at the youngsters and joined the adults in breaking their fast. Plans were made for surveys of the prospective property, Harry's quickly approaching fifth birthday, and locating a handful of willing wizards to work with the goblins as part of the security team. Trevor suggested a few muggles (who were aware of the magical world) and squibs with either military or law enforcement backgrounds as well, a notion that was readily endorsed by Backbiter.

_July 30, 1985 All Day_

The purchase of the house in Norfolk would be finalized in less then two hours, plans to purchase the additional acreage (a total of one hundred forty additional acres according to the initial assessment) were well underway, and several more security guards had signed the contract. Fifteen of the newly hired guards were slightly older goblins with training in wards, curse breaking, runic magic, healing, and construction. They grudgingly placed themselves under the command of Glorthock, even though they were anywhere from fifteen to fifty years older than the new young officer. The other twenty-six guards were human, with six of them being wizards with auror training, eight were fairly young muggles with military backgrounds that chose not to reenlist once they'd served their time, another five were older squibs that had been part of a muggle security force for a company that had recently gone bankrupt, and the last seven were eighteen and nineteen year old muggleborn wizards and witches that had wanted to become aurors but didn't get the grades to qualify for training (all seven of them having been failed by Snape in potions because they weren't Slytherins or purebloods).

Of the new former aurors hired, one was formerly a training instructor that had been crippled during the war with Grindelwald who was forced to resign from his position just before the rise of Voldemort. The man was the only new officer in the entire group, signing on as a sergeant who would be responsible for training those guards with little to no experience. Trevor hoped to find at least three more such trainers to hire as sergeants; a goblin arms trainer, a military training officer, and a security specialist or at the least someone with combat experience of some kind. The three men and one goblin would, ideally, work together to train the entire security force to work as a well oiled machine.

Each of the newly hired recruits were asked to provide the names of friends or former associates who might be interested in joining the growing guard force and as a result Trevor had a list of an additional seventy two people he'd contact over the next month. Trevor was also negotiating another contract with Gringotts to hire the services of a few more professional warders to work on the property protection upgrades around the new house. Klouse, as a favor to Trevor in between cases, was working on hiring two teams of construction workers. One would be a muggle team to gut the old cottage and barn in order to turn it into a barracks for the guards that would be living on the grounds and a mess hall. They would also make repairs and upgrades to the main house to bring it up to code.

The other would be a team of wizards to go in behind the muggles to add additional rooms, room expansion charms, runic plumbing, install Floo compatible fireplaces, and excavate a series of tunnels and rooms to expand and connect the cellar of the main house to the proposed basement that would be built under the stables. They would also be responsible for charming and warding all electrical wiring on the property for protection against magical surges and to allow muggle electronics to be used for surveillance cameras and lighting.

The warders would need to go in afterwards to set up various protective wards around the perimeter, designated magical entry points, buildings, and through the tunnels and underground rooms. These wards would include anti-apparition and anti-portkey wards that would shunt any one attempting to enter the property by those two means to a designated entry point, a blanket illusion ward to give the property and grounds the appearance of a rundown old farmhouse and fallow fields, several fire prevention wards on the buildings, strengthening wards on the underground tunnels, water repellant wards, and an inversion ward to hide the magical presence of the wards. Runic ward stones would be spaced around the property edges to make the land virtually unplottable without interfering with the electrical wiring.

The entire project was expected to take at least two months to complete, most of that time being spent doing the muggle upgrades and repairs to the buildings. The additional acres Trevor was purchasing, forty acres in back of the house (south of the original property), seventy to the east, and thirty to the west, would be left virtually untouched on the surface, while below grounds an extensive training facility and specialized underground greenhouses (based upon the goblin designed greenhouses that littered the underground network beneath Gringotts) would be built and linked to the underground network of tunnels and rooms under the main house and would be ready sometime between November and December.

On the domestic front, Trevor had hired several young wizards, squibs, and muggles to maintain the house and grounds. He could have purchased a handful of house elves instead but he was disinclined to draw the Ministry's attention by making such a purchase as all elves were required to be registered with the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. (There was also the complication of any elves needing to be bonded to a witch or wizard in order for them to survive) Backbiter was checking the Potter records to see if any elves had been bonded to any of the properties but so far had turned up nothing. Surprisingly, Trevor had ended up hiring the former Professor Sprout as chief herbologist for the planned underground greenhouses as well as two of her former Hufflepuffs that she had recommended as showing an aptitude for working with both magical and muggle plants. The mild mannered witch also readily agreed to teach Harry Herbology when he began his magical studies.

Harry reacted negatively to the large increase in visitors to the cavern; the shy and extremely nervous child taking to burrowing under his covers and refusing to come out unless the room was empty of all strangers. He'd even eat underneath the blankets to avoid being stared at by the various goblins, witches, wizards, and squibs that visited Trevor in the cavern. Trevor was torn between moving his negotiations to a different location and ignoring the child's extreme discomfort around strangers. On one hand, he wanted Harry to feel safe and secure; while on the other, he knew the boy would have to eventually become used to dealing with large crowds of strangers on a regular basis. Harry wouldn't be able to function in either society if he didn't. Trevor held off making a decision either way for the moment, knowing that Harry would be returning to St. Mungo's after a small birthday party the next day where he'd be away from all the hustle and bustle of the hiring process for seven days.

_July 31, 1985 9:45 AM_

Harry woke earlier that morning to the smell of his favorite goblin breakfast – crispy fried home-style potatoes with bell peppers, onions, mushrooms, and spicy goat sausage smothered with three different kinds of cheese and topped with thick, white gravy over a steaming bed of fresh baked biscuits – and a huge glass of grapefruit juice. Beside his meal was a small modest pile of gaily wrapped presents with huge bows. He'd been shocked to see the gifts; having no idea why there would be presents sitting beside his food due to not actually knowing that today was his fifth birthday.

Unsure, he continued to study the presents curiously (and with more than a little longing) while he lifted his fork and took his first bite of breakfast. He moaned in delight as the explosion of flavor hit his tongue. Having lived on bland food for most of his life, Harry had quickly developed a taste for the spicy and flavorful foods of the goblins as nothing his aunt had ever given him had ever tasted so exotic. A fact that secretly thrilled those goblins that had been hired as part of his security force as the younger goblins started bringing him some of the rarer goblin treats that few humans had the opportunity to try.

Turning his attention from the pile of presents for a moment, Harry focused on the veritable feast (to him anyway) in front of him. Each bite was followed by a small sip of grapefruit juice which enhanced the spicy flavor of the goat. He was in heaven and all too soon he was stuffing the final bite of biscuit and gravy into his mouth with soft sigh. He was full to the bursting, this having been his largest meal to date but wished there'd been just a bit more on his plate (it had been that good) even if he felt his tummy would burst if he ate another single bite. He was also pleased over the fact that it was the first meal where he'd not had to be hand fed by one of the adults that usually watched over him (though his arms still shook and wobbled sometimes).

It was about this time that Trevor and Leticia joined him, both of them already having eaten earlier. Both seemed mildly surprised that the gifts had not been touched but it was Leticia who voiced the question out loud to Harry. "Harry? Why haven't you opened your birthday presents?"

"I have a birthday?" Harry countered in surprise, his eyes both disbelieving and hopeful as he looked up at her.

"Of course you do, silly, everyone has a birthday. Yours just happens to be today, which is why some of your friends have left you these gifts. Glorthock brought them by earlier along with your breakfast."

Harry smiled shyly as a few tears trickled down the side of his nose at the thought of having both a birthday and friends. With one hand he picked up the topmost gift and pulled it to him. Beside the bow there was a tag tied to the ribbon. "It has my name on it!" Harry gasped with wonder, his name being one of the few words he now recognized thanks to his lessons with Leticia.

"Yes, and the name below yours is Clawtoe; he's the one who gave you that gift."

"Wow," Harry breathed as he tenderly peeled the paper and ribbons from the box to find a small cauldron shaped basket filled with a pile of the jerked meats that goblins served as delicacies. Each chunk of jerky was twice as thick as Harry's thumb and covered in a sweet pineapple sauce spiced with several different kinds of peppers. There were four different types of meat mixed in this particular batch; goat, lamb, venison, and bicorn. Harry happily pulled out a cube of his favorite meat, the venison, and popped it into his mouth. His tummy burbled loudly in protest but Harry felt it was worth the slight discomfort just to savor the tangy sweet and spicy flavor of the treat.

The next gift was a small flat box from Glarthunk, Glorthock's younger brother, and contained a beautiful cream colored tunic with embroidered green and brown dragons along the hem. The dragons lazily flew around in circles and occasionally breathed long gouts of flame colored threads. Harry loved it so much he immediately asked Leticia to help him pull it on over the t-shirt he'd slept in and spent several minutes just watching the dragons fly over and around the wrinkles and creases of the fabric that piled around his legs.

Axenose's gift was a tin full of thick goblin taffy rods. Each rod was about five inches long and made with a sour taffy coating a crystallized fruit center, usually made of dried and crushed pineapples, mangoes, or peaches mixed with sweet peppers and a bit of salt. This particular goblin treat was the closet goblins ever came to eating candies, as in general they disliked the over-saturated sweetness of sugar and most chocolates; they did, on the other hand, enjoy the naturally sweet flavors of fruits. Harry longed to tear into one of the yellow pineapple rods but just the thought made his little tummy ache. He now almost wished he'd not eaten such a large breakfast.

In the next present, Harry found a pair of dark brown pants that matched his dragon tunic, a robe of dark green fabric with cream cuffs and collar, dark green dragon hide boots, and a hand tooled leather belt with a silver and gold buckle in the shape of a dragon's head. These were collectively from Hobblefoot, Pitdigger, and Slingstone. The final and largest gift was from Glorthock and Harry opened this one far more carefully than he had the others as he considered Glorthock his very first friend. (While he liked Trevor, Jake, Klouse, and Leticia, he saw them more as proper guardians and parental figures than friends.)

When Harry first opened the box from Glorthock, he'd been surprised to see it was much larger on the inside than on the outside. He knew magic could be used to increase the space inside of an object but he'd only seen moderately expanded items such as his briefcase. This box, which was roughly two and a half feet long, two feet wide, and only six inches high, was big enough on the inside that Harry could climb inside of it and be unable to get back out without help if not for the ladder attached to one side. The outer box was made with fire hardened oak and bound together with cast iron brackets on each corner and an intricate lock and clasp that was shaped like a dragon head similar to the one on his new belt, only in the same black iron as the brackets. The outside was also lightly stained with a deep red that allowed the natural grain of the wood to shine and had an animated hand carved dragon floating on the top of the lid. The inside of the lid was lined with dark red felt and was divided horizontally into two equal sections designed to hold roughly thirty books and each fitted with an oaken door that was hinged on the top. The bottom half of the chest was paneled in natural oak with what looked like a curio cabinet attached to the left side and a wrought iron and oak plank ladder attached to the right. There was a short note attached to the top cabinet in the lid.

Lettie read it out loud;

_This is a goblin treasure box. Use it to hold and protect all  
>of your treasures. The dragon will only open for you.<em>

_Glorthock_

Harry's eyes devoured every inch of the box, his heart pounding harshly in his ears as his fingers tickled and traced the dragon on the lid. Reverently, with the help of Lettie and a slightly stunned Trevor (goblins rarely ever willingly parted with the magical artifacts that they created), he placed his birthday treats and clothes (minus the shirt he was wearing and the pants which he wished to wear) inside the top cabinet in the lid before placing all but one of the tiny figures that Leticia had given him last month in the bottom cupboard where they'd be safe. In the top right cupboard of the curio cabinet in the bottom half of the box, which could be reached without having to enter the box, Harry placed the folded up remains of the wrapping paper, ribbons, and tags from his presents (the five year unwilling to throw them out). He spent the rest of the morning alternately running his fingers over the outside of the box and peeking inside to check on all the treasures he'd placed inside.

For lunch, Harry was given his first birthday party. Glorthock and the other six younglings arrived with Backbiter, Amelia, Jake, and Klouse, the latter four carrying additional gifts while the former hauled several large trays of roasted pork and goat meat seasoned with sweet and spicy sauces, roasted tubers, and fresh baked breads. While it was not a loud and boisterous party filled with games and sugary sweets; it was wonderful in Harry's opinion. He ate a delicious lunch, opened more presents (which mostly contained more clothes and a few dragon themed books and toys), and enjoyed his first ever slice of cake (a fluffy angel food cake without icing).

Afterwards he was helped into his new pants and boots and escorted to the surface by the newly hired security force. Another short trip on the underground and the group was standing outside of St. Mungo's once again. Inside, Harry was led to a different room, one that was slightly more secluded than the last, and set up on a hospital bed where he was prepped for another round of bone regrowth. This time they'd be working with his leg and hip bones, starting with the right tibia and fibula. The second night he'd regrown his left tibia and fibula followed by the pelvic and pubis bones on the third. The fourth and fifth night was spent regrowing his femurs and patella bones while the final two days were spent in therapy helping Harry adjust to the biggest changes in his bone structure to date.

His next session of bone replacements weren't scheduled to take place until November sixth to give him an additional eight weeks to rebuild some of the muscles in his legs and allow his body to rest for the next series of replacements, which would be one of the most critical procedures as they replaced his entire skull over a period of two weeks. They had to divide the skull into smaller sections to be regrown individually in order to preserve Harry's facial structure and protect his eyes and brain from potential damage. Thankfully, due to the natural design and growth of the human skull, that was the one bone structure that would not have any significant size increase. Prior to starting the procedure, Harry would be taken for a series of cat scans to check for any lingering injuries or damage from his two skull fractures and to have the thin plates the Muggles had attached to his skull removed so they didn't interfere with the regrowth.

The Daily Prophet printed a late afternoon special edition on Harry's birthday, complete with Rita's vamped up articles featuring the Boy-Who-Lived undergoing his second round of treatments. She'd outdone herself as three additional printings of the paper were sold world wide, as the wizarding public drank up the latest news and rumors of their treasured hero. At least this time no new photos had been released, the anti-animagus wards installed this time preventing Rita from sneaking into Harry's private room as they suspected she had the first time. Gawkers were discouraged by the pair of taciturn goblins that had been stationed right outside of Harry's rooms as a deterrent for any witch or wizard who wished to attempt an attack on the incapacitated boy.

Once Harry was released from the hospital, Trevor drove the two of them (along with a small force of security guards that followed behind discreetly) out to the new house. The construction team making the renovations on the stable and cottage were on location and the air was filled with the bangs, whines, and roars of hammers, saws, and electric drills that startled Harry a bit when he was first lifted out of the car. He quickly ignored the loud noises though as Trevor carried him into the house to give him a tour. He asked a few questions but for the most part remained silent as Trevor pointed out various rooms and fixtures and discussed the planned changes with the foreman on site.

When they finished, Trevor tucked him back into the car and they drove out to the coast where Harry saw the sea for the first time. They spent the three nights at a local hotel and the days visiting the various sites along the coast. It was a bonding moment between Harry and Trevor, as the two discussed what would happen over the next four months.

Harry still felt extremely uncomfortable in the heavy crowds and often hid his face against Trevor or under the nearest blanket or towel. Trevor refrained from scolding Harry about the behavior, as he knew it would take the boy time to get used to being around large groups of strangers. However, he also didn't go out of his way to shield Harry when they were out in public, he knew the boy needed that exposure to help him adjust. Trevor did offer comfort and reassurance constantly though, so that by the end of their last night Harry would at least look out over the crowds to view whatever attraction they were visiting.

On Sunday, they returned to the farmhouse for another look, this time it was completely quiet as the construction workers had the day off, and spent a few hours wandering through the fields looking for bird nests, glittering rocks, and fancy wildflowers. The latter intended as a gift to Leticia from Harry when they returned to the cavern below Gringotts.

The long drive back to London was filled with a contented silence as Harry slept in the modified car seat in the back as Trevor drove; their shadow of guards, ever following behind them as they traveled the highways.

_September 30, 1985 2:05 AM_

A large moving truck arrived at a deceptively empty field in Norfolk and disappeared unseen through the wards surrounding the now hidden farmhouse, which had formally been named the Potter Compound (often just called the Compound by those who would be living there). The vehicle ground to a halt just outside the front door to the main house with a loud squeal of breaks as the rolling door of the trailer opened with a loud snap and two dozen men in dark brown uniforms poured out and swarmed the house and surrounding property. The loud piercing cry of a goshawk signaled the house had been declared all clear and six burly goblins in dark green uniforms dropped down out of the back of the truck carrying heavy battle axes. The goblin guards were followed immediately by a seventh goblin that carried a sleeping child cradled in his arms and a woman wearing a dark brown jacket over jeans and a jumper.

Two more armed guards in brown uniforms stepped down from the cab of the truck, followed by a third, older man wearing a dark blue suit and joined the cluster of men and goblins surrounding the woman and child. Together, the odd group entered the house through the front door where they were met by another group of guards and escorted to an empty room. The goblins quickly took up positions around the perimeter of the room while the other men in brown uniforms left to patrol the grounds.

Outside several shabbily dressed goblins (when compared to those that had been hired to guard Harry) began jumping down from the back of the trailer while others passed down boxes and various pieces of furniture that were quickly carried into the house and deposited in what would later become the living room of the house. Several chairs and a couch were delivered to the goblin guarded room where the woman, the man in the blue suit, and the goblin holding the child stood around whispering in low tones. The boy was briskly transferred to the couch by the goblin once it had been placed just opposite of the door, before he took up a protective position directly behind the bulky piece of furniture.

Leticia Hall, the woman in the room, gratefully sank onto one of the chairs that she pulled up beside the couch while Trevor Matheson, the man in the suit, chose to remain standing. They spent close to two hours waiting in the room so they would not get in the way of the goblins lugging in the various furniture and boxes. Once the truck had been emptied; Trevor, and two of the goblin guards, headed back outside where he thanked the goblin movers and tipped the driver of the vehicle before watching the truck vanish into the darkness that still clung to the early morning.

The next few hours were spent distributing the majority of the furniture to various rooms around the house. The only exceptions were the personal belongings of Trevor, Leticia, and Harry's that would be deposited in their rooms once they'd chosen said room. Trevor had promised Harry could have first choice, which was why the other two were waiting on the sleeping child to wake before picking rooms for themselves. During this time, a second moving truck pulled up to the house carrying another fifty security guards and the furniture for the barracks in the back. The vehicle was searched by the team already on site, before being given permission to pull around back where a group of goblins quickly began off loading the equipment and carrying it into the barn.

By the time Harry woke up and ate breakfast around eight o'clock, a third vehicle carrying food supplies and the personal effects of the hired help had been parked just outside the kitchen in the back. These items were being offloaded by the men and woman who would be working in the kitchen and on the grounds. The maids would not be brought in until everyone else had been settled as a floor of rooms had not yet been designated for the staff (not counting the low bunk house built onto the kitchen that would house the kitchen staff of eight men and woman and two goblins) the latter hired at the timid request of Harry when he learned they'd be moving out of the bank. Harry dearly loved goblin cooking and Trevor gladly accommodated the child knowing that the other goblins on staff would appreciate the gesture as well.

Harry was then lifted onto Glorthock's shoulders and given another tour of the house, as the floor plans had greatly changed after the magical constructors had finished their renovations and warding. The child was entranced with the changes as he twisted his head from side to side while Glorthock stoically carried him from room to room. At the end of the procession, made up of seven goblins and four humans, Harry was asked which room he'd like to call his own. The first place he chose was a cupboard under the stairs but Trevor asked him if it was really where he'd like to live or if it was where he thought he had to live. Harry thought that one out before shyly point straight up at the ceiling and saying he'd really rather live at he very top.

So the group trouped back up the stairs to the top floor where Harry still pointed up, indicating the access panel that led into the attic. Trevor merely raised an eyebrow and lowered the access panel while letting Glorthock take Harry up first. The attic was a single huge room with several dormer windows that faced both the front and the back of the house. It was also the only room that had not been magically altered to appear larger inside than outside. It was originally going to be set aside for storage space but Trevor figured there'd be plenty of other rooms that could be used for storage around the house or in the basement.

"May I please stay up here?" Harry asked with shining eyes.

"It will need some work, to make it livable but I don't see why not," Trevor acceded after a moment's consideration. "We'll also close off one side to make you a walk in closet for your clothes and a private bathroom. The rest of the room you can decorate as you wish."

Harry's smile was big and bright as he waved his little arms around and whooped in pure excitement. "Can we put in some more windows so it won't be so dark?"

"Yes, we can do that as well as add a few ceiling fans with lights and wall fixtures."

On the way back down to the lower levels, Trevor asked Leticia to help Harry pick out some furniture for his new room (using catalogs from various companies that they'd picked up prior to moving up from London) and decide on a color scheme. He also had a few of the hired hands move Harry's belongings up to one of the third floor rooms where Harry would stay until his room was finished being modified. Trevor then left Harry in the company of the goblins so he could set up his room and home office, which were both situated on the ground floor.

The guest rooms would be set up on the second floor, with the servant quarters occupying the third floor so there was a buffer level between Harry's room and any people staying at the house. The first floor would hold the rooms, offices, and classrooms for the tutors in addition to an informal dining room and an extensive library. On the ground floor, aside from Trevor's office and bedroom suite, there was the living room, a formal dining room, a large ballroom (for when Harry eventually began entertaining guests), the kitchen, a security office, and one empty room that would eventually be turned into a study or office for Harry when he was older. Down in the basement were the goblin quarters (as the goblins preferred the security of a layer of earth above their heads), armory, and several rooms that would be converted into storage now that the attic wasn't available.

While the rest of the household unpacked and settled into their rooms, Leticia and Harry sat on the couch down in the room they'd first used when they arrived and spread several catalogs on a small coffee table that had been set in the room while they were touring the house. One sported a collection of miniature carpet, rug, tile, and wood flooring samples, another wall paper and paneling, there were at least four different catalogs filled with thousands of pictures of bedroom and office furniture, while another contained swatches of lace, velvet, and linen curtains and the last few contained an assortment of lighting fixtures, sinks, faucets, and other hardware items. Some of these were obviously magical catalogs while others were ones from local Muggle shops.

They started with the basics; a magical deep green carpet that looked, felt, and moved like a grass lawn, ivory vertical blinds for all of the windows with matching lace curtains and pale green drapes that contrasted nicely with the carpet. The walls would be painted a soft ivory and the north wall, the side facing the front of the house, would be covered with magical wall paper covered with trees that had various creatures wandering through the magical forest. The south wall would have additional windows inserted, and so would be left with just a couple coats of paint.

On the east end, taking up approximately one fifth of the total space in the attic, a bathroom, closet, and magical lift would be built. The bathroom would be done in shades of browns and cream, while the closet would continue the forest theme from the bedroom area. The lift would be tucked beside the closet closest to the south, or back wall, and would only transport Harry from his room down to the basement where a similar lift would be installed. This would basically be his emergency exit in the event of an attack. The space over top of the closet and bathroom would eventually be converted into another storage room.

The pull down ladder and access panel in the floor situated roughly in the middle of the room would be replaced with a spiral staircase that would reach from the attic down to the basement and be accessed from each of the floors in between. The staircase would be hidden behind a wall and magically secured so that only Harry and a few select members of the household could use the staircase to enter. This would include Harry's personal bodyguards (Glorthock and the six younglings), the chief of security (who'd not yet been hired), his personal maids (two young ladies who'd just been recently hired), his valet (an older wizard that had been hired a few weeks back but wouldn't be starting until the following summer), Trevor, Klouse, Healer Weber, and Leticia. Other individuals would not be allowed admission into Harry's private rooms for the time being. Once he was older, and able to protect himself better, he'd be allowed to invite friends and guests up into his rooms but until then the access list would remain limited.

On the west end of the attic, a modified loft was to be built starting a good six feet off the floor, running the entire width of the room and taking up nearly a quarter of the floor space with the enclosed area beneath the loft set aside as a large hidden playroom. On the south third of the loft an additional three foot high platform bed was built to hold the queen sized mattress that Trevor had ordered for Harry. The three walls immediately surrounding the bed and the ceiling above it were charmed to mimic the sky outside and give the impression that the sleeper was laying outside under the sky with a curtain of thick velvet in pale green separated the sleeping area from the rest of the loft allowing for privacy. Harry had come up with the basic idea, he'd shyly expressed a desire to sleep out under the sky and up as high as he could get, and one of the security wizards with some artistic talent had drawn a rough sketch for the boy after rumors of Harry's wish had circulated the Compound.

In the other two thirds of the loft, a desk, four leather arm chairs, two book cases, and a couple of small coffee tables would be arranged as a small study area slash sitting room with an unrestricted view of the rest of the attic. The edge of the loft, not counting the enclosed portion where the bed would sit, would be edged with a sturdy, magically reinforced banister four feet high. A shallow set of stairs that started around the middle of the loft and stretched to the north end allowed for easy access to the loft. Under the stairs would be a small linen cupboard to hold extra sheets and blankets as well as the hidden door to the storage area beyond.

It took two weeks to modify the attic space, install the carpet, and put up the wall paper and curtains. Another couple of days were spent installing four large ceiling fans, their blades shaped like long leaves, down the center of the ceiling. The furniture arrived a week later and took a few good hours to maneuver into place up in the loft and that afternoon Harry moved into the loft with Trevor's help. His clothes were hung up in his closet, his books organized by age level on the bookshelves, and his treasure box tucked safely into a secret cubby he found above the pillows on his bed. Glorthock and the other goblins didn't care to spend much time up in the loft (they preferred the underground tunnels after all) but they didn't feel as uncomfortable in the large room after the transformation as it felt like they were in the middle of a clearing in a mystical forest. Harry had been deeply impressed that the witches and wizards on the staff had made his vision come alive so completely.

When asked if he'd like to have anything else brought into the attic, Harry would decline and say he preferred the open space, which consisted of just over half the original attic. Only those who'd been present on the day Harry had been removed from the Dursley's, and those who had visited the memories of that day, could fully understand why Harry enjoyed the wide open spaces and brightly lit room so much. The only link to Harry's past that was allowed into his new room was the hidden door nestled inside the small linen closet under the stairs that led to the newly created playroom and storage area beneath the loft. When Trevor asked why he wanted the door to his playroom inside the cupboard, Harry hesitantly replied that he'd always wished he'd had a secret room he could sneak away to back when he'd been locked in his cupboard for days on end.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong> _Lots of busy stuff going on… but they've finally moved out of the bank. Next chapter will have more action in it and more madness. Tomorrow's chapter will be posted on Wizard's World and chapter 15 for this story will be posted on Monday. Before I sneak off for the day I'd like to once again thank everyone whose has left a review (not counting flames) and thank everyone who has stuck with me through the rough first few chapters. I know lots of people have left questions and comments about Snape, Lucius, and Dumbledore not being taken to task about their manipulations but all I will say is that there is a method to my madness. =) Jenn  
><em>


	15. The Madness Never Ends

**Disclaimer: **_All HP characters are the property of JKR, the WB, and respective publishing companies - this is nothing more than a simple FanFiction that I have written. I have made no money from this or any of the other stories I have posted on this or other sites._

**AN:** _Story beta'd by my R/L daughter Sillyhobbit_.

* * *

><p><em><strong><span>Chapter 15: The Madness Never Ends<span>**_

_October 21, 1985 9:00 AM_

After spending the previous three weeks getting used to the new house, working on his physical therapy, and improving his limited reading skills, Harry joined Trevor and Jake for a long drive down to Surrey for his scheduled tests later that afternoon. They'd also be taking another full set of x-rays of his skeleton to check the internal structure of the newer bones and to make sure his older, damaged bones had not weakened since early summer. Glorthock and Glarthunk, wearing glamors to hide their natural appearance, accompanied Harry while a team of another six security guards shadowed them.

Once at the hospital, Harry changed into a gown and checked into a private room where he waited for the nurse to take him for his cat scan. Jake would be staying by his side the entire time, as he was the only qualified healer and wizard present for the day. Glorthock had been upset when he first learned he'd not be able to remain with Harry at all times but there weren't many options available that would give him an airtight reason to stay with Harry during all of the testing. The only appeasement he could be offered was the assurance that after today, there'd only be one or two more return visits to the muggle hospital to scan Harry's skeleton after the rest of his bones had been regrown.

Three days later, after thirty x-rays, three cat scans, a dozen memory modifications, and a short surgery where the metal plates were removed from the back of Harry's skull, the group returned home to Norfolk to spend a quiet week and a half at the Compound while Harry recovered from his surgery and prepared for his fast approaching trip back down to London for a two week stay at St. Mungo's.

In London, about the time Harry was being strapped into his special car seat for the trip to Surrey, Dumbledore stood up and addressed the Wizengamot as the Headmaster of Hogwarts, stating the need to update the school's by-laws in order to reflect the modern times. Some of the changes he wished to make involved the courses taught at the school, some covered the materials that were covered on N.E.W.T. and O.W.L. exams, and others yet changed the rules regarding enrollment of new students.

Dumbledore actually had the support of the majority of the members of the Wizengamot right up until he mentioned the changes regarding student enrollment. Amelia spotted the veiled attempt to draw Mr. Potter back under the aging Headmaster's control and she squashed his entire proposal ruthlessly before it had even gotten off the ground. Many of the older family representatives backed Amelia on general principal because they saw the new changes as a direct attack on their future heirs.

Dismissed with orders to not present any more blanket changes unless authorized by the governors of Hogwarts, Albus wearily returned to his floundering school in time to attend lunch with the rest of the staff. His tenuous hold on the last of his three prestigious positions slipping further as he tried to take things back to the way they were before; never questioning the persistent voice in the back of his mind that constantly told him only he knew how to best lead the wizarding world and that those younger than him were nothing but fools.

* * *

><p>Rita Skeeter, vicious reporter and spreader of tales both real and imagined, set her quill down after scrawling out the final word. With a lazy wave of her wand the still shimmering ink dried in a flash and she tucked the thick parchment under a stack of similar documents. "Done at last," Rita purred roughly as she stood up and stretched her cramped muscles.<p>

Stumbling into her bedroom she caught only a short glance of her bedraggled hair, pale face, and dull eyes with deep, dark bags beneath them as she hurried into the bathroom to start the water in her bath. She'd spent the last two and a half months doing nothing but writing the biography on the early years of the Boy-Who-Lived that she had titled _Harry Potter – A Tortured Tale of a Child Hero_. She'd barely eaten during that time, slept only when she'd been too tired to write, and rarely bothered to bathe or brush her hair.

The last few days she'd been hounded by the publisher for the completed manuscript and she'd told him each time she was nearly finished. When converted to book form, it would be twice as thick as the biography she'd written on Armando Dippet, a fact she was utterly proud of. That wasn't even counting all of the wizarding photographs she'd gathered together from various sources and evidence files; photos she fully intended to have bound into a separate companion book that would be sold side by side with the written biography.

Right now though, she needed a good long soak in hot water and soothing potions to rejuvenate her body long enough to allow her to deliver her manuscript and photos before devouring a hearty meal and sleeping for a week. Afterwards, she'd pamper herself by spending a day or two at a well know Wizarding Spa hidden high in the Alps before making an appearance for the release of her book and photo journal on the thirty-first of that month. Which just happened to be the fourth anniversary of baby Harry Potter's defeat of the darkest wizard to date. The emotional impact of the anniversary combined with the release of Potter's tale would have a striking impact on the wizarding public and double the amount of projected sales. Then next Halloween, after the book had been on the market for exactly one year, she'd do a book signing to regenerate the book's popularity and double the previous sales. It was all there; in her mind as she sank blissfully into the near scalding waters and released a moaning sigh as the potion laced bath water began working its magic on her tired and aching muscles.

An hour later, looking far fresher than when she'd first finished her book, Rita tucked several pounds of parchment inside of her alligator skin purse, stepped into the Floo, and swirled through the fires until she reached the publisher's office where she gracefully stepped out of the fireplace and seated herself in front of the overly large desk. The wizard sitting behind the desk glowered at her over the expanse as he barked, "You're late!"

"I've spent the last two months doing nothing but eating and breathing this story in order to have it finished before Halloween and your whining that I'm a couple of days behind schedule? If you'd commissioned any other author to write this biography in as short of time as I agreed to write it, you'd have been hexed faster than you could duck."

"I didn't come to you with the commission for this book, Skeeter; you approached me with your ridiculous boasts about having everything you needed to write the Potter brat's story."

"I don't recall you turning me down," Rita pointed out as she gave him a predatory smile. "In fact, I distinctly remember you jumping through several hoops to secure the exclusive rights to print my book some of them far less than legal if I recall the usual methods you use."

"Cut the crap, do you have the promised manuscript and photos or not?"

Rita pulled out the first clump of parchment and thumped it down on the desk in answer, the second pile, full of photos placed in chronological order, followed in a slightly gentler fashion. The publisher sitting behind the desk grinned hungrily as he pulled the two stacks closer so he could shuffle through them. His smile only grew larger before he lifted both extensive packets from the desk and dropped them unceremoniously into a bin where they were immediately sent to the editor who'd be responsible for cleaning up the manuscript prior to sending the book to the presses for printing and binding.

Money exchanged hands at this point and Rita bid the man good day as she back into the fireplace and returned home, well over five thousand galleons richer than she'd been just earlier that morning. Deep within her newly acquired bag of gold, unknown to both Rita and the publisher, three galleons began transmitting the name of their new owner and their new location through a series of specially charmed quills.

* * *

><p>In Amelia Bones' office, inside of a special book shelf sat three hundred rolls of parchment that were well over five hundred feet in length each. Each roll of the thick vellum was approximately five inches wide and attached to a special dispenser that magically fed the parchment forward into a collection bin periodically. Just above each roll of parchment hovered a magical quill that was linked to a series of spells that had been placed on a single coin. Each time the coin was moved to a new location or changed hands, the quill it was linked to would record the new location and new owner of the coin.<p>

This information was then tallied and cataloged by three auror cadets that continuously monitored the detection quills. A summary of this information was given to Amelia each morning when she walked in and again each night before she walked out. Those coins that ended up in general circulation were detached from their assigned quills first thing each morning and a new coin charmed to take its place was soon winging its way towards the main supplier of Harry Potter merchandise via barn owl. On average, eighty such changeovers took place each morning for the last fifty three days.

Of those coins that ended up inside a vault deep in the bowels of Gringotts, only a dozen or so ever got dumped back into circulation during any given week of those same fifty three days. These were the coins that were monitored the closest as they were the ones most likely pointing to the party, or parties, responsible for the production of the unauthorized goods. Over two thousand individual coins had been sent out on the exact same path, the majority of them leading to the same five vaults, two of which were owned by a single individual.

As suspected, not a single coin that was sent to the supplier ever made its way into the Potter Family vault. Oh, one of the coins that made it into general circulation may have eventually found its way into the vault; in the form of rent payments, prophet shares, and loan repayments; but those were coming from those witches and wizards that rented Potter land and buildings, companies that the Potter's had invested in, and other people who'd borrowed money from the Potter's at one time or another. If the vault had been a muggle bank account there might have been interest paid as well; but the goblins did not pay interest, no, they charged rent space for witches and wizards to store their gold inside their home and charged interest on loans against the bank but they'd go to war if they were forced to pay interest on the money all but rotting in the depths of the bank.

Amelia was using the data collected from the coin quills to help Klouse and Trevor build a case against the wizards and witches that appeared to be profiting the most from the Potter merchandise. They had also been gathering plenty of evidence in the form of various unauthorized merchandise being stored in a vault deep within Gringotts. T-shirts, watches, stuffed dolls, action figures, photographs, fictitious story books, toys, and a hundred other items carved with his name or likeness. There were even quills painted with his name and a lightning bolt, parchment rolls that carried drawings or photos of his face, six different chocolate frog cards, and two different candies – one which looked like him and the other which was named after him. The only thing those items didn't include were the various newspaper and magazine articles throughout the last four years.

The next step, for Law Enforcement, was to hunt down any copies of legal contracts that were filed by the suspected profiteers to find out if there was a single mastermind behind the exploitation of Harry Potter or if these people had just started doing it on their own. The Hall of Records was a large place though and four years worth of contracts would be a considerable amount of parchments through which to sort. Unfortunately, there was no possibility of using a summoning charm either because the contracts were warded against summoning charms to prevent them from becoming damaged if forced to travel through doors or other obstacles. The cadets assigned to digging through the Hall of Records were extremely unhappy with their current lot, some had even dropped out of training on the grounds that they signed up to fight crime, not wrestle with layers of dust and moldy old papers.

At the end of the afternoon, when Amelia was given the day's tallies, she was pleased to see a new name added to the list. It was one name she'd expected to be on the list much sooner but with three separate coin confirmations, she was just glad to get the name to appear at all. She was now one step closer to pinning Rita Skeeter to the wall, all Amelia needed was to catch her in her illegal animagus form in a restricted area to have enough evidence and proof to arrest her and hold her for trial.

_October 31, 1985 2:45 PM_

Harry stood with the aid of magically charmed and warded braces while Leticia and his two maids, Grace and Lucy, helped him dress in the Halloween costume he'd picked out a couple of days earlier. Trevor would be taking Harry out for his first ever trick-or-treat adventure, at the request of the two maids when they'd learned that Harry had never dressed up and gone out for candy before. The two young ladies, both not long out of college and still in their twenties, had slowly wormed their way into Harry's affections, the two becoming closer to big sisters in his mind than servants.

The two maids had taken to sharing stories of their childhoods with Harry, both of them coming from large, loving families. And while neither Lucy nor Grace had any magic of their own, they both had a few magical relatives and were fully aware of the existence of the wizarding world. That the two young women treated Harry with nothing but kindness helped bring him just a little more out of his shell. He was still extremely shy and quiet most of the time but he smiled just a bit more often and didn't try to hide his face from the staff and servants of the Compound when he encountered them now.

Unsurprisingly, for those that had known Harry the longest, he'd asked shyly if he could dress as a dragon for the trip to the coast where they'd be trick-or-treating from four to six before heading to a restaurant for a fancy meal. It had taken a bit of effort to locate one but the search had been well worth it when Harry had laid eyes on the green and yellow fabric covered foam costume. It wasn't as realistic as he might have hoped for but the rigid wire and foam wings, long bendable tale with felt spikes, and hood that looked like an open dragon's mouth made him smile widely. The Muggle costume was slightly enhanced with magic to prevent it from getting dirty or damaged during the night's activities and warded for warmth and protection.

Two goblin warriors, dressed in ceremonial armor, would be accompanying Harry that night. Slingstone and Hobblefoot had wrestled the other goblins for the honor earlier that day, a common method among the goblins for settling disputes or arranging escorts when guard numbers had to be limited. Glorthock usually always won during these matches but he was required to attend a Clan Meeting at Gringotts that night and would not be back in time to go with the group.

Also going with Harry were a few of the staff's children, most of them at least five years older than Harry. Harry had met them in passing but never displayed any interest in spending time with them; his memories of the larger, meaner Dudley always pushing, punching, and getting him into trouble far too fresh to allow Harry to actively seek out the company of another child. Several wizard and muggle security guards, along with the other children's parents, would round out the group of those that would be walking the streets with young Harry and offer him a greater amount of protection should they run into a witch or wizard trying to take advantage of the Halloween activities to attack Harry. Trevor was most concerned about those witches and wizards that had been fired from the Ministry when Fudge was sacked in addition to Dumbledore and Malfoy.

By three-thirty, Harry was ready and raring to go. He was suited up completely, his face painted to mimic the inside of the mouth of a dragon; he'd refused to be a face inside the fake mouth of a dragon as he had thought it far too creepy, holding a bright orange bucket charmed to be feather light and hold twice as much candy in one hand, and bright orange torch in the other as he sat by the door waiting. Leticia (dressed as a pirate), Slingstone, and Hobblefoot were standing close by as well; the two goblins looking extremely uncomfortable holding identical orange buckets as they were pretending to be human children dressed up as goblins for the night. Trevor joined them a few minutes later shockingly dressed as a street mime, to the delight of Harry who'd never really seen him in anything other than a suit or robes.

The four of them headed out the door, Trevor carrying Harry while Leticia held onto Harry's walking braces that he'd be using part of the night to help him get used to walking on his own. The rest of their party was already in their vehicles and once Harry was strapped into his seat Trevor started the car and headed for the coast. Once they found a parking space, Leticia helped Harry down out of the car and helped him put on his braces. He wobbled for the first few steps but soon steadied as he settled into a steady rhythm of swing, brace, step, step, and repeat. Joining up with the others, they headed for the first of many houses and rang the doorbell.

_October 31, 1985 6:45 PM_

Harry had lasted almost an hour walking in his braces before his legs and arms became too tired and had to be carried. He'd ended up riding on Trevor's shoulders for the rest of the evening, his face grinning as he leaned down at each new door they approached like an attacking dragon complete with a soft growl that usually startled the treat givers who soon laughed and added an extra treat in his bucket for being so 'charming'. The other kids capitalized on this, by taking to pretending to be fleeing from a vengeful dragon each time they rang a bell. Towards the end of the trick-or-treating, some of the candy givers were so entertained that they'd allow the kids to split larger amounts of left over candy as the number of other children out trick-or-treating dwindled to practically nothing.

The most surprising act of the evening though, had been as the large group was preparing to split into smaller groups for supper and the oldest child that had come with them, a twelve year old boy dressed as a superhero, reached out to shake Harry's hand, thanking the younger boy for making the evening so fun. Harry had flinched away at first, only to reach forward tentatively to take the offered hand after a few minutes and give it a shake. The two boys shared a smile; Harry's just a touch smaller and shyer, before they waved goodbye to each other and Harry was buckled into his car seat by Slingstone.

Supper was a nice leisurely event after the craziness of bouncing from door to door for just over two hours. Harry and the goblins shared a couple of extremely spicy all meat and goat cheese pizza (a first for all three of them) while the others ordered various entrees at the Italian restaurant that Trevor had made reservations at earlier in the day. After noticing Hobblefoot trying to tuck a single slice of the pizza into the leather pouch at his waist, Trevor ordered a couple of more pizzas to go at the end of the evening. The goblin later confessed to wanting to give the pizza to the two goblin cooks in the hopes they'd be able to come up with something similar without the thick, doughy crust.

On the way back to the Compound Harry drifted off to sleep after a full afternoon and evening of excitement. Trevor gathered the exhausted boy in his arms once they arrived home and carried him up to the attic where he tucked him into the loft bed after removing the boy's dragon costume and cleaning off his face. Hobblefoot delivered the three buckets of candies and treats (the goblins gladly leaving their buckets for the boy), Harry's braces, and a package of goblin treats from one of the cooks a few minutes later, setting them on Harry's desk where they'd be found first thing in the morning.

Down in Leticia's room, which was on the first floor and nearest the library that she was in charge of stocking with various books, Lucy and Grace both demanded a detailed account of the night's successes. The two maids had been waiting on pins and needles since about seven o'clock to find out if Harry had enjoyed his first Halloween. Leticia gladly accommodated the ladies, embellishing Harry's exploits as a fearsome dragon stealing candied treasures towards the end of the night. The three of them laughed fondly over the stories and Leticia promised to let them know when the two rolls of film she'd taken during the entire evening out would be developed so they could see the pictures.

* * *

><p>The release of the Harry Potter biography was one of the reasons for the emergency Clan Meeting that was scheduled deep within the bowels of Gringotts. Amelia Bones, Klouse Carter, Alastor Moody, and Kingsley Shacklebolt joined Backbiter, Stonegut, and Glorthock to discuss the renewed public interest in the current location and life of Harry Potter. The wizards were concerned that the added attention would increase the number of threats to Harry's safety while the goblins were concerned that several of the bank's vault holders were apparently withholding payment to the Potter vault for using their client's name and face on their products. (The Potter accounts having been turned over to the Outcast Clan for managing after the nerve-racking inheritance ceremony where the Gringotts' Director, Ragnok, was attacked by Harry's wild magic.) The goblin clan should have been earning their three percent fee from those royalties and they were extremely angered by the fact that they were not.<p>

There were currently three different conversations taking place in the meeting cavern. Stonegut, Glorthock, and Moody were discussing how best to increase the level of protection surrounding Mr. Potter when he made any forays into the wizarding world (such as his ongoing treatments at St. Mungo's), Amelia and Backbiter were putting together possible plans of actions against those making an illegal profit off of Harry's name, and Klouse and Shacklebolt were debating the accuracy of some of the information in Rita's book and her possible sources. Occasionally, one of them would join one of the other conversations before jumping back to their original one; it led to one huge cacophony of noise as their words bounced between the stone walls repeatedly.

After six hours of such madness, the three groups managed to put together several plans to counter the latest upheavals. Klouse would place advertisements for more security guards, Backbiter would file a freeze request against the vaults of those people involved, Stonegut would sound out some of the younger goblins from other clans and see if they were interested in joining the Younglings led by Glorthock, Kingsley and Moody would provide aurors to help watch over Harry when he spent time in the wizarding hospital or attended large gatherings (such as the Christmas Gala Minister Longbottom had invited him to over the coming Yuletide holidays), and Amelia would secure a warrant to recall every copy of the unauthorized and somewhat misleading biography as well as approach other members of the Wizengamot about creating new laws that would prevent future exploitations from being allowed in their society.

As Klouse and Glorthock were heading out the door, both headed to the Compound where they'd bring Trevor up to date on the latest, Backbiter stopped the wizarding lawyer and handed him an overflowing box of tutor and security guard applications that had been left at the bank's mail center; many of which had been turned in immediately after the release of Rita's book due to her mention of tutors being hired for the Boy-Who-Lived. Eighty percent of which would most likely not even be given an interview, due to lack of qualifications on the part of the applicants.

Once back in Norfolk, Klouse and Glorthock split up, Klouse heading to Trevor's office where the older man sat sipping a glass of white wine waiting for an update. Glorthock immediately headed up to Harry's attic to check on the child and get a report from the two goblins who won the right to guard him during the outing. The former goblin sentry was pleased to find the entire Youngling squad, which had grown to a total of thirty-one goblins between the ages of seventy-five and one hundred and twenty years of age including the original six, camping out in the middle of the attic listening to Hobblefoot and Slingstone describe the night's outing.

Joining the circle, Glorthock grabbed a small slice of the now cold pizza from the center of the circle and took a bite while he listened to Hobblefoot launch into the description of Harry's act as an attacking dragon once more for their leader's benefit. Much knee-slapping ensued once the story ended; the goblins enjoying the tales of frightened humans and any signs of fierceness from their charge. Talk of the strange breaded food also circulated and while most of the goblins agreed there was too much acid in the tomatoes and bicorn cheese would have made it taste better, they all agreed that the spiced pork sausage, goat meat, smoke cured hams, baked chicken smothered in spicy ranch, and ground beef was nearly as good as their own.

After a while, Glorthock left the circle to check on a sleeping Harry before taking the lift down to the basement where he met with the older goblins to discuss the new changes that could be expected over the next several weeks.

While Glorthock was making his rounds among the goblins, Klouse was discussing the day's meeting with Trevor. The two longtime friends spoke of the advantages and disadvantages of the agreed upon plans while digging through the various applications and sorting them into three categories. Those applying for security positions would be passed on to the existing security team for pre-interview background checks, tutor applications were stacked in Trevor's inbox to be looked through over the coming weekend, and the final stack were those applications that were rejected for one reason or another.

"Moody can't promise more than three full aurors but plans to pair them with cadets in order to flesh out the surveillance rounds when Harry stays at Mungo's. Longbottom's Ball shouldn't be an issue as an entire squadron will be on duty to protect the minister anyway. Oh, here's a good one! A fourteen year old witch is applying to teach Harry 'the ways of the world', says she's experienced and won't say no to a marriage contract," Klouse said as he waved the offending application before tossing it in the rubbish bin with the rest of the rejected applications.

"That's nothing; this one is from a thirty-seven year old witch for the same position, only she is already married. She sent photos too. Ye gods, some people are sick. Has there been any word on where the ball will be held? If she has it at Longbottom Manor there shouldn't be an issue but if she insists on holding it at the Ministry, one squadron won't be able to watch all the guests let alone keep an extra eye on one small boy; what with all the numerous hiding places and various exits."

"Rumor is they'll hold it at the Ministry but Kingsley claims Longbottom is fighting for it to be held at her home. She's concerned about the safety of her grandson, young Neville, should she be forced to take him out in public. She's worried about the rumors that the boy is a squib and the reactions of certain people should he appear inadequately protected. Here's an application from two boys named Gred and Forge, they wish to train Mr. Potter in the ways of mischief – they can't be more than two years older then Harry if their handwriting and spelling is any indication. They didn't put a last name on the application, pity I could have used the laugh if we interviewed them!"

"Doubt 'Gred' and 'Forge' are their real names any way," Trevor pointed out with a laugh as he glanced over the application in questions. "Says here they have experience in pranking older and younger siblings. Did Moody have a complete guest list for the ball? Oh, and what was Amelia's response to Rita's book?"

"Merlin's beard! I think there was an itching hex on the jokers' form, I've got a rash on the back of my hand now; did you get one too? Amelia is filing a recall warrant and planning on fining both Rita and the publisher for printing sensitive and privileged information without permission. Backbiter is working on freezing the known accounts of those benefiting the most from the unauthorized merchandise too. Here's another security app, this one from a thirty year old auror cadet that is dissatisfied with his training. Must be another of those Amelia has working on the contract search. Moody says the current tally for confirmed R.S.V.P.'s has reached the two hundred mark, with at least another three hundred expected. That means around four hundred guests to date assuming each confirmation brings a guest."

"That many won't be able to fit in the Longbottom Manor, unless they plan to hold it outside – which would make security even more of an issue, regardless of the wards surrounding the property. Maybe you should suggest to Moody that a warehouse be rented for that night, getting the gala off Ministry property and allowing for tighter security and more room. Slughorn has sent in another application for tutoring Harry in potions. I swear that fat old man is a bigger nuisance than Dumbledore at times. And no, seems any hexes from the jokers were geared towards the first to handle or read the application, not every one who touched it."

And so the rest of the night passed in similar fashion as the two legal experts carried on sorting information and applications until nearly dawn; occasionally sharing a laugh, or a curse, over one applicant or another.

_November 05, 1985 12:45 PM_

Early November had flown by relatively quickly for those living at the Compound. Harry remained on an emotional constant high right up until the night before he was scheduled for his next round of bone replacements. The excitement of his first Halloween carrying him along even though he'd barely touched his candies from trick-or-treating, his tastes in candy more in keeping with the milder sweet, sour, and spicy flavors of the goblin candy. He did try a few of the various chocolates and candy bars, if only to see why Dudley had liked them so much but in the end he dumped his entire stash into a large bowl for the staff and security guards to snack on in addition to the occasional child that wandered through the house. He also spent more time moving around on his own with the aide of the braces, far more capable of maintaining his balance than he'd been before Halloween. The biggest obstacles for him were currently stairs, carpet, and uneven ground.

On the morning of the fifth, Trevor drove Harry, Glorthock, Glarthunk, and Hobblefoot down to London where they met Alastor Moody and a group of aurors and auror cadets that would be patrolling the area during the two weeks Harry would be staying at the hospital (the lack of a screaming crowd of fans helping the security relax just a touch as they patrolled the area). Harry was then bustled inside to the same room he'd used previously and made comfortable by Healers Weber and Stone. This time there was considerably more fussing to be done as the two healers vanished what remained of Harry's hair (it had been partially shaved off during the previous month when the plates on his skull had been removed), tilted the stone table so Harry was laying at a forty-five degree angle instead of laying flat, brought out extra pillows and support blocks would be needed to hold Harry's head completely still during the regrowing of each section, and went through the updated x-rays and cat scan images.

As weird as having the bones in his feet and legs vanished, it was nothing compared to the startling feeling of parts of his skull being vanished in small sections. He was also less then happy with being forced to take his potions through a straw as he couldn't sit up and drink from a cup with his head strapped securely to the support blocks and to the bed. Fear could be seen hovering in his deep green eyes as they slowly vanished behind sinking eyelids and those in the room with him felt terrible that the procedure was necessary. Towards the end of his stay, during the final three sessions of regrowth, Harry had even been reduced to tears each time the healers entered to begin the process all over again. He didn't bawl out loud, throw a tantrum, refuse to cooperate, or anything like that; but his eyes would grow real wide and fill up with tears that slowly slipped down his face the moment the two healers began the evening preparations.

_November 22, 1985 07:15 AM_

Thirteen nights straight is what it took to safely regrow his skull, thirteen horrible nights with his head tied securely in place as he was potioned into a fitful sleep while the Skele-gro did all the work. It was the longest thirteen nights of Harry's life, and considering his past that is saying something. He spent an additional four nights in the hospital being monitored for any complications and muscle building treatments (for the still growing muscles in his legs and feet).

When he was released early this morning, the first thing he'd done was ask for his braces so he could walk out on his own instead of being carried. Seventeen nights stuck in a bed practically unable to move had set his progress back a bit and his first few steps wobbled until he settled back into the swing, brace, step, step rhythm he'd been using prior to the hospital stay. He spoke to no one as the group made their way through the lobby towards the doors, with Harry hanging back slightly more than usual as he was in lost in unhappy thoughts and not really paying attention.

As they stepped through the portal out onto the streets of London, the aurors and security guards were fully occupied with holding back the huge crowd of witches and wizards that had come to see the legendary boy hero in person. Even the goblins, who normally never got more then two or three feet away from Harry were needed to prevent the overly eager fans from getting to close to the tottering boy for fear they'd knock him down. So it was that Harry (who was just exiting the portal by himself and struggling slightly to get down the huge step that marked the entrance), was virtually alone when it happened. Later, after the crisis was over and done with, memories would be examined from each of those present that day in an effort to figure out just how Malfoy had penetrated their defenses.

As Harry was trying to step down; Lucius Malfoy had stepped through the portal behind him, grabbed him roughly around the waist, and activated a hidden portkey before any of the aurors or body guards could stop him. If not for Harry's brief cry at being manhandled from behind, they wouldn't have known who had taken him or how it had been done. As it was, the goblins went berserk at the sight of Harry vanishing in a swirl of black robes and the crowd screamed out in fright and anger. Trevor was knocked down and trampled by a few panicking fans before one of the cadets could help him back up while the others attempted to give chase to Harry's abductor.

Hobblefoot bustled Trevor back into the hospital for healing; he was bleeding and bruised, while Glorthock and Glarthunk disappeared with the loud bang of the goblin form of apparition as they headed to the Compound for backup. The tracking charms that had been embedded into Harry's braces were traced to Malfoy Manor within five minutes of his abduction but when the aurors and security squadron arrived on location, the only evidence that Harry had ever been there were his broken braces lying outside the gates. Lucius Malfoy, whom they found stunned and hexed not far away from the braces, was taken into custody while the aurors stormed the Manor in search of Mr. Potter.

Glorthock cussed and cursed as he scouted for any sign of his charge, his temper growing more violent the longer Harry was missing. Amelia and Moody turned up just as word was sent from inside Malfoy Manor that Harry was not inside the building anywhere. Moody was immediately called in to search for hidden rooms and passages while Amelia scanned for lingering traces of travel by portkey or apparition and soon turned up positives for both. The portkey trail was assumed to be the incoming trace from Malfoy's portkey and the apparition signature was confirmed as outgoing not long after.

Knowing that time was of the essence, Amelia sent her aurors out to scan the mostly likely destinations while she returned to the Ministry in order to have the apparition traced. Trevor joined her there after he was healed of his injuries, full of suggestions and questions as to what had happened while he was in St. Mungo's. They had barely begun to fully organize a countrywide search when an irate and frightened Madam Rosmerta tumbled through Amelia's Floo, frantically calling for an auror and a healer.

"There's an attack up at the castle, Director Bones! I don't know who it is but I've been seeing flashes of green and blue and I could hear someone screaming. You have to send an auror or two over right away and a healer, if it isn't too late already!"

Amelia shared a split second glance with Trevor before she apparated out to Hogsmeade, the one place she'd not considered when she was assigning search teams. The moment she arrived, she pulled out her wand and charged up to the gates of the school to find Dumbledore hanging from one of the winged boars guarding the entrance to the school while a green form stood protectively over the still and muddy form of Harry Potter. Amelia rushed up to Harry, only to backtrack when a wall of blue magic formed between her and her destination while the green warrior turned to face her.

"I'm here to help him, not hurt him," Amelia gasped as she tucked her wand away, lifted her arms the universal gesture for surrender, and moved slowly closer to the boy. "I need to make sure he is okay."

The green form considered her for a moment before vanishing in a burst of light as the blue wall melted into the ground. Moving cautiously closer while checking over the surrounding area Amelia slowly brought her wand back out and cast a few diagnostic spells over Harry while her eyes took in the damaged gate, Dumbledore's broken wand, the unconscious headmaster still hanging from the statue, and the numerous gouges torn into the earth between Harry and the headmaster. The readings coming from the scan were troubling but thankfully they also confirmed what she could see with her own eyes now that she was kneeling beside him – Harry was still alive and relatively unharmed.

Gathering the boy into her arms, she curled her body around him protectively as she activated her emergency portkey and transported them both directly into St. Mungo's where two healers joined them before she could climb to her feet. As the healers attempted to start treating Harry, Amelia barked at them to stop and track down Healers Weber or Stone who were most familiar with the boy's health history. Once they'd left, she sent a patronus message to Moody and Shacklebolt letting them know she'd found the child and to have someone get out to investigate the scene at the gates of Hogwarts. A second message was sent to Trevor (letting him know where Harry was), and a third to Glorthock in the hopes that it would calm the bloodlust she'd seen growing in the over-protective goblin.

Twenty minutes later Trevor crashed into the room with Glorthock on his heels. Jake Weber arrived just a few minutes later and began trying to determine if Harry had been injured. Five minutes later it was determined that Harry had a fractured left arm, mild concussion, an assortment of scrapes and bruises, and was suffering from magical exhaustion. Thankfully the concussion didn't appear to be from a head injury but rather the results of a forced apparition too soon after regrowing his skull. Jake healed the cuts, mended the fracture and set the arm in a cast to allow it to fully heal, and gave Harry a potion for the concussion and the pain.

Trevor then lifted the child from the bed and carried him out of the hospital without a word, Glorthock following on his heels. In the lobby of the hospital, they were surrounded by twenty armed guards that escorted them out to the waiting van. Harry still hadn't woken up by the time they arrived back at the compound where an anxious Leticia and Grace met them at the door. One look at Trevor's grim face and the two ladies fell back, their questions unasked as they took in the new cast on Harry's arm and the child's torn and muddy clothes.

Glorthock followed Trevor to his office where Trevor promptly locked him and everyone else out. Glorthock stared at the door for several minutes before he simply stepped to the left of the door and took up sentry, his face a blank mask that discouraged anyone from approaching the room.

Inside his office, Trevor wearily sank into his chair with Harry still cradled in his arms. Leaning his forehead down against Harry's, he whispered apologies for failing to protect him from those that wished the small boy harm. They sat there like that for hours until Trevor was pulled out of a light doze by the sound of someone knocking on his door. At first he worried that it was another wizard bent on taking the boy in his arms away when reality burst into the room in the form of a disheveled Klouse with his wand in hand.

"Merlin, Trev, what the hell is wrong with you? You can't just lock yourself and Harry away without so much as a word to anyone," Klouse admonished hoarsely. "You aren't the only one who cares for him or the only one who feared the worst when we heard the news."

"I almost lost him today, Klouse, I failed him…"

"Just stop. I watched the memories of several witnesses, and there was nothing anyone could have done once Lucius grabbed hold of him. The mob of fans was a big part of the problem and we can use the memories of the incident to train our security teams to be better prepared in similar situations. Go. Take Harry up to his room and I'll have one of the boys bring you up something to eat while you wait for him to wake up. But don't hide in here locked away from the rest of the house."

Trevor nodded brokenly as he climbed awkwardly to his feet and headed for the stairs. As he passed the silent Glorthock, the goblin fell into step behind him as they made their way up to the attic where the young goblin took up his sentry at the base of the loft while Trevor gently carried Harry up. Trevor gently stripped the ruined clothes from the sleeping child, dressed him in his favorite dragon pajamas, and tucked him into the middle of the bed before laying down next him and pulling him close.

When the meal arrived, Glorthock took the tray from the kitchen boy and carried it up to the loft himself where he placed it on the desk with a warming charm before returning to his post at the base of the stairs. Glarthunk and Hobblefoot joined him a little later and between the three of them they made certain that Trevor and Harry were not disturbed (aside from a few specific individuals just peeking in to check on the pair) as they slept fitfully up in the loft.

* * *

><p>Back in London Amelia was gathering memories from aurors who had been on duty at the scene of the crime and various witnesses who'd seen the event. Moody was still out at Malfoy Manor; he'd found a veritable treasure trove of cursed objects, dark arts books, and illegal torture devices down in a hidden chamber below the study. The grizzled auror was having the contents of the room cataloged and removed to a vault in Gringotts to be used as evidence against Malfoy. Chief among them were two sets of robes and Death Eater masks that had been the center display of a dark shrine. Narcissa Malfoy was raining verbal curses down upon the old auror the entire time as she and Draco were taken into custody, the boy to be held in protective custody until a relative could be found to take him in.<p>

Shacklebolt was up at Hogwarts interviewing the recently revived Headmaster, who was insisting that he'd followed Malfoy from the hospital in order to rescue young Harry. He'd apparated the child to Hogwarts because the boy had been hurt when he was thrown from the portkey when he landed, intending to have Madam Pomfrey heal his injuries before returning him to St. Mungo's. Albus was tight lipped about what happened after arriving in front of the gates of Hogwarts but was forced to turn over a memory of the entire incident when he was informed that Amelia already had Harry's memories of the entire event (a minor fib as Shacklebolt wouldn't be heading to the compound until the next day to get Harry's memory).

Rita Skeeter, still fuming about the recall of her book on the early years of Harry Potter, gleefully wrote up a malicious series of articles calling the aurors bumbling idiots for allowing the boy hero to be kidnapped right out from under their noses.

_November 22, 1985 10:53 PM _

The first time he woke up that night, Harry screamed when he found himself trapped in someone's arms. He tried to thrash around and get away but his entire body was being smothered by the covers.

"Harry… _Harry_…_**Harry**_!" a voice called his name as the arms holding him withdrew slightly.

Harry opened his eyes and saw nothing but darkness that slowly evolved into a familiar star filled sky. The voice was still calling his name and eventually as his immediate fear began to subside, Harry recognized the voice. "T… Tre… Trevor?"

"Yes, Harry, I'm here," Trevor sighed in relief as Harry stopped struggling to get away and began burrowing into his chest instead. He could feel the first sobs starting, Harry's entire body was trembling and shaking until finally the tears began soaking his suit jacket as Harry cried and whimpered. "I'm here, son, I promise I won't let anyone take you again. Let it out, Harry, let it all out. It's okay to be afraid and to cry now that you are safe."

Standing near the top of the loft stairs, Glorthock slowly returned his battleaxe back to his belt as he watched the squib calm Harry. Glorthock had been cat napping when he'd heard Harry's scream and in his exhausted state he'd thought he'd been back at St. Mungo's with the attack just taking place. His heart raced as he remembered the shame of his failure and he sank down into a half crouch as he continued to watch the two humans. He was torn between making sure he never failed to protect the child again or submitting a plea to the Clan Elder to give him a quick death because he had shamed his family.

Twice more that night Harry woke up screaming from nightmares and twice more Trevor calmed him down and rocked him back to sleep. Down on the lower floors, those adults still awake would glance towards the attic each time they heard the screams and whisper a short prayer to whatever deity they worshiped. In the renewed silence they returned to their vigil as they waited for an end to what had been a long and difficult day.

Sometime around five in the morning, Harry settled down into a more peaceful sleep with his little body tucked deeply inside of Trevor's arms.

_November 23, 1985 10:03 AM _

The next time Harry woke up it was to Trevor unwrapping his arms and slipping out of the bed. "Trevor?"

"I'm not leaving, Sport," Trevor soothed when he heard Harry call to him. "I'm just moving out of the way so Jake can take a look at you and make sure your arm has healed during the night."

As Trevor stepped to the side, Harry finally saw the healer standing just a few feet away from the bed. Right next to Jake, looking decidedly uncomfortable, was Glorthock and his brother Glarthunk. Harry gave the two brothers a timid wave (utterly relieved to see the faces of his friends watching over him) while Jake removed the cast on his arm, checked for any signs of further damage to the already weak bone, and scanned his head for lingering signs of the concussion. The prognosis was good, it appeared he'd healed just fine during the night in spite of the nightmares that had troubled his dreams.

Harry and Trevor were then served breakfast in bed by the subdued goblin pair while Lucy delivered a change of clothes for Trevor from his downstairs room and discreetly removed the ruined robes Harry had worn the day before. After breakfast, Trevor carried Harry into the bathroom and set him down on top of the toilet while he prepared a warm bubble bath. He then helped Harry undress before lowering the boy into the sudsy water before striping out of his own clothes and joining the boy in the tub.

It was the first time Harry had ever shared a bath with another person and he wasn't sure what to think until Trevor gave him a small grin and plopped a blob of thick bubbles on top of his still bald head. Harry's eyes bugged out comically as he reached up to whip away the suds in wonder while Trevor dropped more of them on each of Harry's shoulders. After a few more rounds of expertly placed suds on his back, nose, and head again, Harry retaliated by spreading a huge glob of the white bubbles across Trevor's chest. Trevor laughed and flicked Harry with a tiny splash of water before he was hit in the face with a well placed glob of bubbles that Harry had thrown. A single giggle escaped from Harry as Trevor wiped away the suds and at that point their bath turned into a bubble war that elicited several shrill (if slightly timid) laughs from Harry before it was over.

Rinsed, dried and wrapped in towels the two exited the bathroom and ran into Leticia, Grace, and Lucy who'd been standing in the middle of the room talking quietly. All three ladies blushed from head to toe at the site of Trevor with nothing but a towel around his waist carrying a still smiling Harry. Trevor barely managed to keep his aplomb as he cocked an eyebrow when the three women didn't look away at first, causing them to blush even brighter when they realized they were staring. Leticia was the first to gather her senses and promptly apologized before dragging the other two ladies out of the room to give Trevor and Harry a bit of privacy while they dressed.

Once dressed Trevor carried Harry down to the first floor where he apologized for his indecency, honestly admitting to them that he hadn't known anyone else had been in the room; he promised to be more careful in the future. The ladies in turn apologized for their behavior and made their own promise to make it a point to announce their presence when entering a room. All four of them silently vowed to put the incident behind them after an awkward pause.

Trevor recovered from the awkward moment first and requested that either Lucy or Grace change the sheets on Harry's bed after the rough night and give the bathroom a quick clean. He then informed Leticia that she'd be able to have the day off if she wished as he intended to spend the rest of the afternoon with Harry. Leticia nodded in understanding and said she rather spend the day working on the library instead as the most recent book purchases had not yet been cataloged and shelved (that and she wanted to be close at hand in case Harry needed her or Trevor was required to leave in order to deal with the fall out from the day before).

Carrying Harry down to his office, Trevor plopped him down in his chair for a moment while he activated the Floo and fire called Klouse (who was at the office) in order to let the younger wizard know he wouldn't be in at all that day. Five minutes later, Trevor and Harry were outside behind the security barracks hunting pheasants through the tall grasses of the empty pastures. After two hours of searching, they didn't find any pheasants but they did stumble across a small flock of wild geese that promptly attacked and chased the pair all the way back to the house, much to the amusement of the security patrol that witnessed the event.

Deciding that it might be safer to visit the underground greenhouses; Trevor, with Harry still perched up on his shoulders, turned into the barracks and took the stairs down to the subterranean level and turned to the east at the first fork in the tunnel. After about a fifteen minute walk, the tunnel opened up into a large underground kitchen garden that was about the size of a football field*. The ceiling, which was well over twenty feet high, was made up of artificial glass windows that mimicked the sky, like the walls around Harry's bed in the loft. The area was obviously created entirely with magic, as the garden was buried under a good twenty or thirty feet of earth and there were no windows visible from the surface.

All kinds of herbs, fruits, vegetables, squash, berries, and nuts could be found thriving in neat ordered sections. Harry, who was intimately familiar with his aunt's tiny flower and herb garden having weeded both on more than one occasion, was both amazed and frightened by the sheer size of the garden and the variety of food being grown. "Do I have to weed this garden every day like before?"

"Nope," Trevor replied without hesitation. "Do you see the men and women in green and brown overalls? They're the gardeners that I hired to tend the gardens. It's their job to weed the beds, water the plants, and harvest the crops. The food and herbs they gather are then sent to the kitchen where they are used to prepare all of the meals for everyone living on the Compound."

"Why is it underground? Don't gardens grow better on top of the ground?"

"Not always, above ground a garden is subject to the whims of the weather. Down here the witch and wizard gardeners can control the climate with different spells; which means we can grow food all year round instead of just part of the year. Being underground also hides it from prying eyes, so we can live here on the Compound undisturbed."

"Oh," Harry said as he looked again at the various trees, shrubs, vines, and other plants. "Can we gather some fruits and nuts to take back to the goblins in the kitchen? Please?"

"We can check with one of the gardeners; they will know if there's anything ripe enough to pick."

There were indeed plenty of fruits and nuts ready to be harvested and the two gardeners tending the trees that day were glad to help Harry pick an assortment of peaches, pears, and plums as well as walnuts, pecans, hazel nuts, and almonds to take back to the kitchen with him. Word spread through the gardens quickly, and another two gardeners brought a small basket of mixed berries and another of hot and sweet peppers as Harry's reputation for liking spicy foods had quickly spread through the Compound. Harry shyly thanked each of the gardeners while Trevor honestly praised their efforts in the garden and asked them if they needed anything.

One of the goblin cooks, an older female by the name of Snarlclaw, was waiting for them when they climbed up the basement stairs and into the kitchen. She silently gathered the three baskets of produce and shooed the pair out of the kitchen before setting about cleaning and cooking the offerings. Once out of the kitchen, Harry was lifted down from Trevor's shoulders and settled on his hip so he wouldn't bang his head on low hanging lights or doorways. They were about to head into Trevor's room, to the nearest bathroom so they could clean up, when their attention was drawn by the sound of someone clearing their throat.

Looking over his shoulder, Trevor found Amelia and Kingsley standing in the hallway with two of the security guards on duty. Groaning mentally, for he had hoped to give Harry a little bit more time before making him relive the harrowing events of the previous day, Trevor reluctantly acknowledged the pair and led them into his office where he sat down and settled Harry on his lap.

"I'm sure we are the last people you wanted to see at this moment, Trev, but we couldn't avoid discussing this much longer. We'd have gone searching for you when we got here earlier this afternoon but we were quite forcibly denied access to the grounds by a pair of formidable security goblins," Amelia stated in a no-nonsense tone as she perched on a chair.

"We needed the time," Trevor said softly without apology. "I would have preferred to wait until tomorrow but I realize that might not be prudent given the gravity of the charges." He glanced down as he turned Harry sideways in his lap so he could see Harry's face as he addressed the child next, "Harry, we're going to have to talk about what happened yesterday. We need to know what you saw and heard, as well as what you remember happening. When we are finished, the two of us can get cleaned up and go out to a movie for the night or if you prefer, go somewhere else."

Harry's chin trembled with repressed emotions as he gazed up with his moist green eyes. After a few tense minutes, where it looked like he would dissolve into tears, he gave a jerky sort of nod and burrowed into Trevor's chest. Trevor rubbed his back soothingly for a short while before giving a nod to Amelia and Kingsley to let them know they could start asking their questions.

"Harry," Kingsley began, his deep voice rumbling softly, "can you tell us what happened at the hospital?"

"I was mad," Harry sniffled, his voice muffled by Trevor's shirt. "I didn't try to keep up with everyone. Then the step was too steep and I couldn't get down. And that man grabbed me tightly, I couldn't breathe." At this point Harry looked up from where he was hiding and fixed the two magicals with piercing green eyes full of emotion. "He made me sick, spun me around and around before throwing me to the ground. He yelled at me and called me a name… he called me a… a… muddy something brat. Then he took my braces from me and used a stick to cut them up."

Here Harry stopped and focused his attention on the wall without seeing it. He sat that way for a long time, his entire body trembling as a variety of emotions crossed his face. It wasn't until Shack gently prompted him about what happened next that Harry continued his story, his voice hollow and dead. "He picked me up and shook me, just like Uncle Vernon used to do when he was angry. He laughed and his girly long hair flew in my face before he suddenly dropped me. I fell on my arm and it hurt, I could hear the man speaking with another man. There was a red flash of light. I could feel someone picking me up. I saw nothing but white hair before my head exploded. It hurt so bad and then I don't remember anything."

As his voice trailed off, the three adults shifted uncomfortably as they took in Harry's tale. Trevor could feel the stiffness in Harry's muscles as he ran a hand down Harry's back, only to flinch when Harry abruptly shifted away from his hand. He slowly let his hand drop to the arm of the chair while he studied Harry's rigid posture and blank face, his heart seizing at the thought that Harry was withdrawing back into his shell. Thinking quickly, Trevor brought his hand back up and gently turned Harry's chin so that he could look Harry in the face once more.

The dullness in the boy's eyes chilled him and he did the only logical thing he could. He wrapped both of his arms around Harry, hugging him close, while he gently rocked him back and forth while whispering words of comfort into his ear. Slowly, Harry relaxed in his arms and burrowed back into his chest as he began sobbing silently. Over the top of Harry's head, Trevor met the concerned gaze of Amelia's and mouthed a silent request for a few moments alone with Harry.

Amelia and Kingsley stood up and quietly retreated from the room, knowing there'd be little to no chance of extracting a copy of Harry's memory until the child calmed down.

* * *

><p><strong>*<strong> _The football field referred to does not refer to an American football field but a soccer field._

**AN:** _Alrighty… tons of stuff happening here and I have few things to clear up as well. First, for those of you who are angry with Malfoy getting a second chance to attack Harry, please remember that there is a precedence for that type of behavior from Malfoy (both senior and junior) throughout canon right up until Voldemort let him stew in Azkaban for a while and Fudge lost office until he was right back out there in the last book. Don't worry, with Fudge out of the way earlier in my story Malfoy will eventually get his just desserts. Dumbledore won't be escaping scot-free either though it might seem like it for a while longer. _

_Next point… people keep asking me what's happening with Sirius and all I'm going to say is that we should have an update before the end of the story. Patience, please, I have not forgotten about our favorite canine but there are a hundred other loose ends that I have to tie up first. Some of which I've finally brought back up in this chapter (Skeeter) and some which will show up over the next four chapters. _

_Finally… De Brussyere brought up a concern in a review regarding how much it appears that Trevor is spending on salaries for just the security guards, the goblins in specific. And here is my reasoning for making the salaries what I did:_

_The conversion ratio I used for this story is a 1:2: one galleon is equal to two pounds because I see it as more realistic since I don't believe the galleons to made from one hundred percent gold since they are magical coins and can't see the goblins giving away that much when they exchange galleons for pounds because they are greedy little buggers. That means that at thirty-thousand galleons a week their salary (for the total number of goblins currently hired) would still fall just over three million pounds per year, which while a lot of money is still far less than the canon conversions that JKR set at about 1:5 (I think). _

_Also keep in mind that the money is actually coming out of the Potter accounts – which I probably should have made clearer when I first posted that section – since they are technically Harry's guards. And while I don't have the vaults earning interest in this story (for reasons I mentioned earlier in this chapter) the Potter accounts do earn money from old contracts, leases, loans, and other business arrangements which could conceivably be earning far more than Trevor is spending._

_Hope that clears up any other questions out there about expenses. I would have tried to work it into the story line somewhere but short of going back and rewriting what I already posted it was a pain to find a place to add it in where it wouldn't stand out like a sore thumb. I think that is everything I needed to clear up at this point and you can expect Chapter 16 to be up tomorrow. ~ Jenn_

**PS:** _Anyone know how to destroy a plot bunny made from Gundanium Alloy! It's ruining my project garden with the damn beam canon some fool gave it when they removed the self-destruct mechanism. _


	16. Reaping Rewards

**Disclaimer: **_All HP characters are the property of JKR, the WB, and respective publishing companies - this is nothing more than a simple FanFiction that I have written. I have made no money from this or any of the other stories I have posted on this or other sites._

**AN:** _Story beta'd by my R/L daughter Sillyhobbit_.

* * *

><p><em><strong><span>Chapter 16: Reaping Rewards<span>**_

_November 30, 1985 All Day_

Harry woke up refreshed for the first time in just over a week, having the first nightmare free sleep he'd experienced since his kidnapping. He snuggled closer to the still sleeping Trevor and let his eyes drift close as he reveled in the protective warmth of the older man's arms. All week long Trevor had stayed in his room, holding him each time one of his nightmares woke him up during the nights. Harry felt a sense of wonder each time he thought about Trevor willingly taking the time to comfort him and put his fears to rest. It was an experience that Harry knew he would treasure in his heart forever.

In fact, aside from the terror filled hours of the nights, the last week had been one of the best Harry had ever experienced. It was even better than the trip to the coast and Halloween night in his opinion; for Trevor had spent the entire week at Harry's side. They'd walked the ground at least once a day, visited the various underground rooms and gardens, visited the local zoo and wildlife preserves, watched _Back to the Future_ three different times in theaters, and ate out at five different kinds of restaurants. Trevor also sat in on the few lessons that Harry had with Leticia in the mornings after breakfast and read him a story each night before they went to bed.

"How did you sleep last night, Sport?" Trevor asked groggily as Harry wiggled in his arms.

"Better."

"Good to hear that, are you ready to get up and get dressed?"

"Do I have to?"

"Unfortunately we do," Trevor replied with a soft chuckle. "We have a busy day scheduled for the day; an appointment later this morning for our new dress robes for the Christmas Ball we will be attending towards the end of next month, then we'll be going shopping for a new suits, jeans, socks, and underwear for you, we have an appointment with Backbiter to go over the books for the Potter account, and reservations at seven for supper tonight at Le Cassoulet."

"Sounds boring," Harry muttered as he burrowed deeper under the covers.

"I won't deny that, but if we don't get it done, we won't have time to visit the Dinosaur Adventure Park tomorrow as planned."

"Alright, I'm moving!" Harry exclaimed as he crawled out from under the covers and climbed over Trevor.

Trevor laughed and scooped Harry up before the small boy could reach the ground and carried him to the closet where he helped Harry pick out a nice pair of slacks, button down shirt, jacket, and outer robes. The pair then headed down to Trevor's room on the ground floor where they grabbed the clothes Trevor had laid out the night before and took turns showering in Trevor's bathroom. Once they were dressed for the day, they met with Leticia in the family dining room for breakfast where they were joined by three security guards and two goblins.

Once breakfast was eaten, the entire group headed to the fireplace where they Floo'd to Diagon Alley. After dusting off the worst of the ashes and soot, they trooped out into the Alley and headed for Twilfit & Tatting's for their scheduled fitting. Harry bashfully stood on the raised stool while an elderly wizard pulled a fancy set of dark blue robes over his clothes and began making adjustments to the garment with his wand. Beside him, on a shorter stool, Trevor was being fitted in a brown set of robes in the same style. Leticia meanwhile was being fitted in pale violet robes in another room by a friendly plump witch that chatted at her nonstop. Twenty minutes later Trevor paid for the new robes and made arrangements for them to be delivered to Gringotts when the alterations were completed later that day.

Their next shop was Gladrags Wizardwear, where they purchased several pairs of black, navy, and dark brown slacks for Harry in addition to several dress shirts in white, ivory, and cream. Leticia even picked out a few woolen jumpers in forest green and deep red that she hid from Harry with the intent of giving them to him for Christmas next month. A side trip to Flourish and Blotts was made to pick up a couple of books for the library before the group headed to Gringotts for their appointment with Backbiter.

Harry's attention wavered often during the two hour long conference regarding the Potter investments, most of the terms beyond his understanding. Knowing it would be at least a couple of years before Harry even began to take an active roll in managing the Potter portfolio, Trevor pretended not to notice when the five year old pulled his favorite dragon figure from his pocket and began to rampage said dragon on an invisible city only Harry could see on the table top. The short lunch break during the halfway point of the meeting saw Harry's second bout of controlled, or conscious, accidental magic since being removed from his relatives.

Harry had been chewing a bite of pepper spiced beef steak when he pulled a tiny sliver off the meat and offered it to his toy dragon only to giggle a minute later. Trevor, who was curious as to what was causing Harry to giggle, had to repress a chuckle of amusement as he watched the tiny dragon open its mouth and pull the offered meat out of Harry's tiny fingers. Twice more he watched the cast iron dragon eat out of Harry's hands, a toy dragon that had never before shown signs of life due to being created in a muggle toy factory with ordinary metals and paints. The forth time, the dragon actually sat up and begged for another bite as it chewed the one in its mouth. It froze open mouthed two seconds later when Harry's attention was drawn to a goblin offering him a refill on his drink. The incident wasn't repeated again during the rest of the meal and the dragon was now permanently stuck in the new pose.

The second half of the meeting flowed by much faster as Trevor discussed making a few new investments in up and coming muggle businesses, before wrapping things up. The next meeting was set for the end of January and the group returned to the surface in order to head to the next item on their agenda, which was hitting the department store in order to get Harry a new suit in addition to some new socks, underwear, and jeans. The fitting for Harry's new muggle suits took about three to four times as long as the earlier fitting for his robes and had Harry in a right cranky mood as the busy day spent mostly on his feet began to make his legs and back throb painfully. This was mainly because, unlike his other outings during the week, he'd not been carried or held when his legs grew tired and weak.

By the time they arrived at the restaurant around six-forty-five, Harry wanted nothing more than to go home and go to sleep. Trevor, seeing that Harry's temper was being sorely tested decided to limit their meal to a single course instead of the three course meal he'd originally planned. Even so, Harry barely touched his Côte de Boeuf and slow roasted vegetables and refused dessert completely. The trip back to Diagon Alley, to use the fireplace inside the Leaky Cauldron to return home, was the average parent's worst nightmare as Harry fussed almost endlessly the entire way. The poor boy was in so much pain that it hurt to walk and hurt to be held regardless of which position he was carried in. To make matters worse, the spinning sensation of the Floo travel caused him to throw up what little bit of supper he'd managed to get down.

Trevor, completely unfamiliar and unused to being around a moody child on the verge of a tantrum, found himself hard pressed to keep his temper in check. It wasn't that he was angry at or with Harry, just that he was frustrated because he couldn't seem to do anything to help at the moment. Leticia, who'd seen her fair share of grumpy and overtired children, took pity on the now frazzled lawyer and shooed him off to relax while she carried Harry upstairs and drew him a nice warm bath to soak his aching body in. This didn't help as much as she had hoped though, because of how far the cramping and burning had progressed since the aching first started during his suit fittings.

Glorthock stepped in after the bath and offered up a tin of the same muscle salve that he'd given to Harry on the day they met. Harry half-heartedly resisted at first; right up until she started applying the salve to his legs and the muscle balm began to sooth his aching legs. By the time she began applying the thick paste to his back, he'd drifted off to sleep. When she finished, she handed the tin back to the goblin with a warm thanks before tucking Harry under the covers.

Leticia stayed beside his bed until just after eleven when Trevor walked in looking much calmer and wearing a clean change of clothes. She gave him a quick smile and bid him goodnight before she headed down to her rooms to get some sleep.

_December 1, 1985 8:31 AM _

The next morning had a bit of a rough start when Harry woke up in pain, though it wasn't as bad as it had been the night before. He was also feeling terrible about his behavior during and after supper not to mention his embarrassment over throwing up all over Trevor once they got home. Trevor told him not to worry himself over it though, explaining that everyone had bad days once in a while. Another long soak in the tub, followed by another application of the muscle salve went a long way towards restoring Harry's usual good humor and the two made their way down to breakfast where they found a solemn Klouse drinking a steaming mug of Darjeeling.

After setting Harry down in his usual chair by the south facing window, Trevor joined Klouse on the other side of the room. "Why the long face?"

"Lucius is trying to convince anyone who listens that it was all an honest mistake. He claims he just wanted to help the obviously struggling boy down the steps and that when Harry panicked it set off his emergency portkey. Amelia's not buying it but some of Malfoy's old cronies on the Wizengamot have begun asking for him to be released from the holding cells. Dumbledore, on the other hand, claims it was only a coincidence he was at the hospital to witness the abduction and that he followed Lucius to Malfoy Manor because he only wanted to save him. Says he took the boy up to Hogwarts because he was injured and needed medical help. Had no answer when asked why he didn't take Harry to St. Mungo's, which was closer by the way, and he insisted that he intended to have Madam Pomfrey check Harry over but I know for a fact that Pomfrey was one of those who tendered their resignation prior to the beginning of the term."

"So, he's lying or stretching the truth. Didn't he try to have several of the school's bylaws changed several months ago?"

"Yes, specifically the ones regarding the educational exemptions for emancipated minors."

"I don't trust his motives but I'm more concerned about Malfoy's actions right now. Dumbledore, despite all his political posturing and secretive tendencies, in an obscure way did save Harry from further injury when he ambushed Malfoy outside the gates of his manor. This is the second time Malfoy made an attempt to harm Harry though. I can't allow him to walk free, he's probably already plotting his next attack and we might not be so lucky the next time."

"Point taken, one Amelia agrees with wholeheartedly I might add," Klouse retorted before Trevor could get worked up further. "She's given Lucius three choices; he can take Veritaserum, swear an Unbreakable Vow to tell the truth, or accept a twenty year sentence in Azkaban with no questions asked. The goblins have frozen his accounts, so his latest attempt to buy his freedom has been forestalled. Mrs. Malfoy is furious beyond belief but she doesn't have the political clout Lucius once carried; even with her Black heritage. She might not see the inside of Azkaban but Lucius will one way or another; unless he takes the vow and intentionally breaks it to avoid confessing or going to jail."

"At least Fudge isn't still in office, that windbag would have had Lucius out free before you could say bribe."

"I agree. Hopefully we'll know if Lucius will go to trial or not by this time next week, they may allow him to drag his case out until next year though; especially if they think it might influence which option he takes. Amelia is hoping he'll opt for the truth serum under the belief that his cronies on the bench will stop the order before it can be administered."

Trevor hummed in agreement as he watched Harry nibbling on a bowl of homemade fruit, nut, and grain cereal. "Even if he makes a choice this week, I can't see the Wizengamot going to session this close to Christmas. The soonest he could be tried will be February."

"Possibly, Longbottom has become known for prodding the Wizengamot into action on short notice though, she's been far more proactive than Bagnold ever was. You plan on being part of the prosecution should his case go to trial?"

"No, don't want to give anyone the opportunity to have the case dismissed due to a conflict of interest."

"Are you ever going to come back to work full time?"

"I don't know, Klouse," Trevor confessed as he turned his attention back to his partner. "I know I should but there are so many other obligations cropping up on a near daily basis that I can't seem to avoid or put off. I've been considering selling my partnership in the firm."

Klouse sprayed the drink of tea he'd just taken as he was caught off guard by Trevor's musings. "Please tell me you are joking?"

"No, I wish I was sometimes. I worked hard to get to where I am, Klouse, you know that. I know that. Running the firm was supposed to be my dream and after my wife's murder it was my life, the very thing that allowed me to wake up each morning and continue without her by my side. Yet now… for the first time in my life since my parents set me out on the street, I find myself floundering and uncertain. I'm being pulled in two directions. On one hand, I have the obligations of my clients and the firm. On the other there is a green eyed boy who needs and wants me to be part of his life. Spending this last week with him, taking him out to places he's never been before; it's been absolutely wonderful, Klouse. And the thought of losing all that we've found as a family, it terrifies me."

"So instead of selling, why don't you take a couple years off and hire a couple of new partners to pick up the slack? The firm won't flounder from being cut loose that way, and face it; if you leave it will flounder after a while because you're the one who's held it together all these years. You're the one who bridges both worlds fighting for the little guys caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. And you'll have those two years to spend with Harry and just be a family."

"I doubt me selling out will make the firm go belly up, my ego isn't big enough to believe I'm floating the company on my own."

"You know Samson is planning to retire sometime in the next five years. Both the senior partners leaving in such a short amount of time will force our clients to bolt down the nearest rabbit hole and you know it. Damn it, Trev, you're not the only one who's put their entire life into running the firm and I know I can't handle all of our clients alone, especially the international cases."

"I didn't know you felt that way, Klouse," Trevor murmured softly. "I…"

"All I ask is that you don't leave me hanging," Klouse interrupted as he set his empty cup on the table. "Take a sabbatical or extra long vacation or something and spend time with Harry, I for one understand the need to be there for him right now."

"If it eases your mind, even if I do sell out, I'd be available for consultations and research, I just wouldn't have my name splashed across the front door any longer."

Klouse laughed bitterly and walked away without replying, leaving Trevor unsure of how to fix their now teetering friendship. Trevor was pulled out of his musings by a gentle tug on his trousers. Looking down, he found troubled green eyes staring up at him.

"Hey, Sport," Trevor said as he lifted Harry into his arms. "What can I do for you?"

"Is he mad at me?"

"Who? Klouse? No, he just has a lot on his mind right now. Why do you ask?"

"He didn't say goodbye to me before he left and he made you sad. Is he mad at you?"

"He's worried. He's got a lot of work that needs to be done but he doesn't have anyone to help him with it."

"Oh. Don't you help him with the work?"

"I used to, yes."

"Is it because of me that you don't anymore?"

"Oh, Harry, it isn't your fault. There was always a chance that something would come up and I'd no longer be interested in working full time as a lawyer. It may be far sooner then I expected but there are more important things in life. Things will work out in the end, you'll see. For now, we just need to be patient."

"Okay. Are we going to see the bones today?"

"Bones? Bones? Ah, Dinosaur Adventure Park? If you are still interested, yes, we will still go check out the dinosaur fossils today."

"Are dragons related to dinosaurs?"

"Some might be, but we'd have to ask the experts to find out."

"When can we leave?"

"Just as soon as we get a security team put together to escort you."

"Trevor? Why do I have to have guards?"

"Well, it's like this, Sport, you are famous and there are a lot of people out there who want to meet you. In a large crowd, some of them might accidentally hurt you because they are so eager to shake your hand or touch your hair. Others people, like the two men who took you from us, wish to harm you or to use you for their own plots and plans. The security guards are there to protect you from all of them."

"Will I always have to have guards? No matter where I go and who I'm with?"

"Most likely, even when you get to be my age. And unless you are going somewhere that is protected and with someone who can protect you, than yes, no matter where you go and who you're with you will have guards watching over you and your companions."

"Oh. Do the guards mind being babysitters? What about their families? Don't they miss them when they have to be here with me?"

"The guards don't mind protecting you, that's why we don't hire just anyone who wants to be your bodyguard. We only hire those that will do their best to keep you safe. Some of them do have families, remember the children you went trick-or-treating with on Halloween? Some of their families live here on the compound, so they see them everyday. Others visit their families during the days and nights when they are not working. That is why we have hired so many men, women, and goblins to watch over you, so all of them will have time to see their loved ones often."

"What happens if they get hurt while they are protecting me?"

"Then we will take care of them and their families until they recover."

"Are the families of the guards who don't live here mad at me? Do they not like me? Is that why they don't live here?"

"No, they have jobs that require them to live somewhere else or their children don't want to leave their friends behind. There are many reasons why but I don't believe any of them dislike you or blame you for their fathers, mothers, brothers, or sisters, aunts, or uncles coming to work here at the Compound. Do you feel up to telling me why you are so concerned that someone might be angry with you?"

Harry lifted his left shoulder in the half hearted shrug he'd begun using when he felt uncomfortable with a subject or worried that someone might be offended by something he said. Eventually, when Trevor appeared to still be waiting for an answer, Harry mumbled, "You were angry with me last night."

"Oh, Sport, I wasn't angry with you. I was frustrated because I wasn't sure how to help you calm down so we could do something to ease your pain. I was angrier with myself for not thinking of the possibility that standing for so long might cause your legs and back to ache. You have to remember; I'm new to parenting, having lived alone most of my life, and never spent much time around small children."

"You don't want me?"

"Of course I want you, Harry! There's never been any question from the moment I saw you lying there in the hospital bed looking so small and helpless, that I wanted you to be a part of my life so that I could watch over you and take care of you. Please, don't ever think I don't want you here with me. Even if sometimes, as you get older, I get angry or upset about things you may or may not have done. People go through days where they have short tempers but that doesn't mean they stop loving you. I promise you, no matter how angry I might seem, I will never hurt you or lock you in a cupboard. I might raise my voice and say things I don't really mean but I will always love you."

Harry nodded silently, little tears trickling down his cheeks, before wrapping his arms around Trevor's neck and hugging him tight. Trevor hugged him back as they stood there for a while just holding one another.

"Now, how about we go study some dinosaur bones?"

"Okay."

The day walking (or in Harry's case being carried) among the bones was both educational and exciting as Harry eagerly ate up the little anecdotes posted in front of each of the fully reconstructed fossils. They participated in the 'dino dig' that let them dig up their very own dinosaur bone (they found a shark tooth from a megalodon), they watched a movie about fossils, and purchased two wax dinosaurs from the wax machines that were positioned around the park. For lunch, they ate corndogs and chips and later snacked on some popcorn and cotton candy (though Harry wasn't sure he liked the sugary sweetness of the cotton candy he did think it neat that it dissolved in his mouth).

Before leaving the park they spent forty-five minutes in the gift shop picking up several books about dinosaurs, a few t-shirts, a set of miniature dinosaur figures that were about the same size as his dragon (only made out of plastic), and a simulated fossil of a Pterodactyl that was mounted on a wooden base about two feet wide in diameter that Harry had mentioned looked almost like dragon bones. (This last one had been purchased when Harry wasn't looking, another gift purchased on the sly for the coming winter holidays.)

On the way home they swung by a pizzeria and picked up two dozen pies to go, an idea shyly put forth by Harry as he thought that the security detail that had followed them all day deserved a treat for their efforts of watching over him. The guards, a group of wizards and a couple of older, glamored goblins, had been surprised to be invited to join Harry and Trevor to supper. It was only on rare occasions that Harry interacted with individuals outside of his small circle of friends and family, so being asked by the young boy to join them for supper was a rare treat for those who'd lived with stories of the child hero over the last four years.

Harry didn't speak much during the meal but he did at least say hello to everyone once or twice as he made an effort to at least try to get to know the people whose job it was to protect him. One young wizard, who couldn't be a day over nineteen, made a huge impression on Harry when he brought up dragons and dinosaurs in the same sentence. When said wizard mentioned that he'd seen real live dragons out on the reserves in Wales Harry begged to know if they were as big as they looked in the photos and if he had been allowed to pet one. Yes they were big, far bigger than they looked in photos. And no, he had not been allowed to pet one but he did buy a shard of eggshell from a clutch of Welsh Greens that had hatched while he was there. Harry was speechless, the thought of seeing a real live dragon (or three) hatching sounded so cool, and he told the young wizard he was so lucky.

Momentarily taken aback at being idolized by the boy most of the wizarding world idolized, the young wizard stuttered that he'd be happy to share the memory with Harry sometime. With that one promise, Jack Williamson a former auror cadet, made a friend of the Boy-Who-Lived. Jack couldn't help but smile at an enthusiastic young Harry who was grinning up at him in excitement and chattering on a mile a minute about seeing a real, live, baby dragon hatching.

Trevor, who had witnessed the entire scene from just a few feet away, later invited Williamson to join them for breakfast the next morning. An honor formerly only extended to the goblin squad known as the Younglings. Jack nervously accepted the invitation, promising to be there at eight o-clock sharp. Trevor clapped him on the shoulder and told him to relax; Harry rarely woke up before eight-thirty and didn't usually make it to the table until nine. Jack laughed softly and said it would be nice to be able to sleep in past five in the morning once in a while. A comment that was overheard by one of the training sergeants nearby that turned around and told him that the smart aleck comment had earned him K.P. duty for the rest of the week. Jack just gave Trevor and the sergeant a sheepish grin and snuck off to grab another slice of pizza before heading off to bed – stopping only long enough to say goodnight to Harry who was by then half dozing in one of the chairs.

A week later, after serving his week of K.P. chores in the mess hall attached to the barracks, Jack Williamson was the first wizard to be inducted into the Youngling Squad and promptly informed that he'd been reassigned to be Harry's personal bodyguard (a position formerly held by the six original younglings and Glorthock). Jack was a bit surprised to learn he'd be getting a new set of uniforms, replacing green with brown, and a slight pay raise in addition to serving longer hours. His training was also being taken over by the goblins, a prospect that he feared more than a little as goblins were well known for their love of violence. He needn't have worried though, for the only difference between his new training regime and the old one was the exchange of spell casting for hand to hand combat and sword fighting; the goblin trainers being no worse than his former auror academy instructor. He'd need to make time during his days off to work on keeping up his wand skills but he didn't mind the extra work.

_December 9, 1985 7:51 AM _

Lucius Malfoy was calmly waiting for an auror to release him from his cell. He'd finally given in to the pressure the night before and agreed to take a truth serum during his trial, though he fully expected his associates on the Wizengamot to protest on his behalf since the case wouldn't go to trial until well after the winter holidays, or so he thought. Previous experience had taught him that the Wizengamot loved postponing all hearings till long after the first of the year, giving themselves a nice long vacation until they were required to get back to work. He was also anticipating being released into the custody of his wife (completely unaware that she'd been arrested shortly after he was taken into custody).

He'd been allowed a short shower earlier that morning and given a fresh change of prison robes; a gesture that had him curling his lips in disgust. He suffered the indignity though, knowing he'd have his revenge on the auror that dared to insult his honor and reputation. If only he'd known what the rest of the day held for him he might have managed to appear just a touch more humble when he appeared before a short panel of select Wizengamot members. Unfortunately, Malfoy let his pride and arrogance cloud his better judgment and he walked into the room and haughtily refused to sit in the Criminal's Chair that his escort had led him to. It was then that Lucius received his first shock of the day, in the form of Tiberius Ogden telling him to shut and sit down. Lucius sat and felt the chains wrap around his legs, waist, and arms while he struggled against them.

"You seem to think you're entitled to certain rights and privileges, Mr. Malfoy," Tiberius continued. "Let me disabuse you of that notion once and for all. You are here to provide a Veritaserum testimony in regards to the events of November twenty-second, in addition to answering a series of specific questions regarding previous charges that you mysteriously weaseled your way out of standing trail for. You do not have any choice or say in the matter, as you'd given your choice to the aurors last evening when you accepted one of three options available to you. Now that you know where you stand, we'll begin. Bailiff, dose the accused with the antidote purger and then administer the serum, please."

Lucius struggled in vain for all of two minutes before he was stunned and force fed a thick gray concoction that would clear his body of any and all active potions that were known to counter the effects of truth serums. After allowing the purger time to clear his system, Lucius was then given three fat drops of Veritaserum and woken up with a quick spell from the same auror that had (quite happily) stunned him just a few minutes earlier.

Lucius woke up disoriented and groggy, the moment he was determined lucid enough to hear and understand their questions, the interrogation began.

"State your full name and date of birth for the court."

"Lucius Abraxas Malfoy, born on February thirteenth, nineteen-fifty-four."

"Explain to the court, why you were at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries on the morning of November twenty-second."

"I was looking for Harry Potter."

"Why were you looking for Harry Potter?"

"To kidnap him."

"How did you know he would be there?"

"Skeeter's book and articles in the Prophet."

"Why did you wish to kidnap young Potter?"

"For revenge."

"Explain, in detail, what you mean by 'revenge'."

"He destroyed my master. He ruined my reputation. He fought the In Loco Parentis ceremony and nearly killed me. He is the son of a mudblood whore that refused to submit to my will. He needs to die. Slow and painfully."

The questioning regarding the kidnapping of Harry Potter went on for another twenty minutes before a short break was called as the serum began wearing off. Lucius, after realizing what had happened, began cursing each of the fifteen members of the Wizengamot present with extremely vile language until he was stunned once more by one of the Aurors. Once the hour waiting period was up (the recommended waiting period between doses of the serum to avoid poisoning the subject under the influence) Lucius was given a second dose and revived so he could be interrogated about past Death Eater activities and the items found in the hidden room under his study.

Twice more he had to be given a reapplication of Veritaserum, as the questioning dragged on well into the evening hours. Each grouping of answered questions only leading to more questions as Malfoy was pumped for every last drop of information he held. When they finished with the once arrogant pureblood sometime after midnight, they had enough dirt to arrest thirty additional wizards. They also had no doubt that Lucius would spend the rest of his miserable life deep within Azkaban for his many crimes and that was only if he escaped the Veil.

Narcissa Malfoy would plead guilty to the lesser crime of owning a set of Death Eater paraphernalia after Lucius had admitted that she had no stomach for the Dark Lord's great work. She was fined ten thousand galleons and denied custody of her child as she was declared an unfit mother for having a weak will and aiding and abetting in the crimes of her husband by omission. In order to make ends meet (since she was also required to pay Lucius's fines for the dark and dangerous items they'd kept in the house), Narcissa was forced to put Malfoy Manor up for sale and release the four house elves bound to house Malfoy because she couldn't afford to feed them and herself. She was also denied access to the Malfoy vault due to their liquid assets being seized to pay restitutions to the families of Lucius's victims. Draco Malfoy was turned over to Andromeda Tonks, his estranged maternal aunt, and the only relative in a fit state to care for the boy.

_December 12, 1985 9:35 AM _

Leticia sat in her office reviewing her notes on Harry's educational progress over the last five months. She had been pleased to find him eager to learn once they mostly got past his tendency to avoid speaking to adults and refusing to ask questions. His handwriting was still far below his age group but most of that could be directly attributed to his injuries and would be corrected with time.

His reading skills and memorization of the alphabet were growing by leaps and bounds. He loved most of the books that were read to him and worked hard to sound out the new words he encountered in the picture books and wizarding primer. He was currently recognizing over seventy-five different vocabulary words, though he sometimes seemed to struggle with the ones he knew. Looking through her notes, she discovered that the books he had difficulties in reading out of were also the books that were notorious for having smaller print. A small red light went off in the back of her head and she made a mental note to ask Trevor if Harry's eyes had ever been tested by an optometrist.

Turning her focus back to the matter at hand, she marked off which goals he had successfully mastered in language arts. Next she looked at the level of his basic math concepts; he was counting up to one hundred, counting by groups of twos, threes, fours, fives, and tens, recognizing shapes and patterns, as well as understanding the concept of greater than, less than, and equal to. Like with his reading, she noticed a pattern of repeated struggle when working with smaller printed material; even when he worked with concepts he had previously shown mastery in. It was clearly evident when they worked out of books that used number and word references for counting problems as opposed to pictures. When performing verbal work, he ran into far fewer problems.

Setting down her pen, she gathered up her notes and tucked them into the folder file she began keeping to monitor Harry's progress and rose from her seat. The only way to prove or disprove her recent suspicion was to bring the matter to Trevor's attention and find out what testing Harry had been given for his vision. If the answer was none, then she'd recommend an appointment be scheduled as early as possible.

On her way to the staircase, she passed Harry sitting in one of the empty offices with two of the goblins grunting harshly as he pointed to an assortment of objects on the table. She paused for a minute, curious, only to realize that the two goblins were teaching Harry various words in the goblin language while he taught them the English version of the word in return. Jack, the young wizard recently assigned to guard Harry, was participating as well by providing the written English translations for the goblins who in turn wrote the gobbledygook word down.

Shaking her head at the wonder of mutual learning between two similar but different species, she pulled her attention back to her present course and hurried down the stairs to see if Trevor was in his office. In front of the door, sitting at a newly purchased desk was Rebecca, the secretary from Trevor's London office. Leticia had forgotten that she'd been brought over to help Trevor wrap up a few of the cases he'd been working on prior to his becoming involved in the life of Harry Potter. Embarrassed by her previous behavior in the presence of the buxom blonde (which had been the day she barged into Trevor's office that first time), Lettie blushed a bright red as she approached the desk and cleared her throat.

"Rebecca? Hi. I never got a chance to before but I wanted to apologize for the way I treated you that day in the office. I'm usually not that rude of a person."

"Under normal circumstances, I'd have probably enjoyed calling Scotland Yard to send someone out to have you arrested for breaking and entering that day but given the madness that followed your unorthodox arrival and the days that followed, apology accepted," Rebecca replied with a smile.

Leticia laughed in relief and held her hand out to the older woman, "In the spirit of starting over again; hi, I'm Leticia Hall but all my friends call me Lettie. Is Trevor available? I've run across a bit of an issue that I'd like to bring to his attention."

"Rebecca Jones, you can call me Bec or Rebecca. I'll answer to either and it's a pleasure to meet you properly. Yes, he's in there. He might be on the phone or in the Floo; but go ahead. He said you've got clearance anytime – if only to protect the windows in his office."

"Argh," Lettie groaned as she blushed even brighter at the reminder of her first act of unintentional vandalism. Shaking her head as Rebecca laughed; she headed towards the office door and opened it with exaggerated care which set Rebecca off a second time. Once inside she waved to Trevor as he glanced her way before taking a seat to wait for him to finish his phone conference. Roughly twenty-seven minutes later, he joined her at the desk with a sigh as he hung up the phone and gave her his full attention.

"What can I do for you today, Miss Hall?"

"I was going over Harry's educational progress today, so I could determine what progress he's made and what areas he still has difficulties with, and I've noticed a bit of a troubling pattern. He excels fairly evenly across the board, his results just slightly above average, so long as everything we're working on is done either verbally, or by working out of the large print books. He falters consistently when working from books with standard size print or anything that's not at least twice as large."

"You think he might have impaired vision?"

"It's the only conclusion I could draw from my notes. I don't recall him squinting while trying to read the smaller print but I do remember watching him grow frustrated as he tripped over words he'd previously had no problems with. Did Healer Weber ever check his eyes?"

"Not that I know of but even magic can't heal Harry's eyesight if there's something wrong with his vision. If it is related to his head injury, there might be something they could do to fix it but if there's more to it than that, then there's nothing to be done but get him glasses."

"So does he need to see a healer or can we get him an appointment with an optometrist?"

"We'll do both, there's bound to be a local eye doctor that can see him before the holidays and we can have Jake take a scan of his eyes either before or after."

"Would you like me to make the call?"

"If you don't mind, just let me know what day."

"I don't mind and I'll let you know at lunch if I could get him in before the gala."

"Thanks, Miss Hall; don't know what I'd have done without you helping with everything."

"Well, you'd not have to worry about your windows breaking at least," Lettie teased as she slipped out the door to the sound of Trevor laughing.

"Rebecca, you might want to call one of the repair wizards, I think I might have cracked something while I was in there."

"What? What are you… oh you didn't, did you? What did you do?"

"I cracked a joke and made Trevor laugh."

"You're a nut!" Rebecca declared while Leticia walked away laughing.

Back up in her office; she tucked Harry's file away, pulled out the phone directory, and thumbed through the pages until she came to the medical section. She quickly found four different optometrists listed within an hour's drive that would work with children. Nodding to herself, she randomly picked one of the four as a starting place and dialed the number listed. Eighteen minutes later she hung up the phone and considered the scrap of paper in her hand listing two dates and two times. Deciding she didn't have time to walk all the way back down to Trevor's office, she picked up the phone and paged him through the intercom.

"Good news and bad news, I found one that can see him this afternoon due to a last minute cancellation, or we can set an appointment for the second week of January. I tried four different places, and this was the only one with an opening before the holidays."

"Go ahead and take the one for this afternoon, I'll rearrange my schedule to get him there."

"Alright, I'll call them back and confirm right now."

_December 12, 1985 2:45 PM _

Harry vaulted through the door using his new braces with a double swing, step, step and looked around the huge outer room to see over two thousand of pairs of glasses on display. He hadn't thought there'd be quite so many types of frames when Leticia and Trevor informed him at lunch that they'd be going to an eye doctor today. When he asked why he needed to see another doctor, Leticia had placed one of his reading books on the table beside him and asked him to read a single sentence. After few minutes of stumbling over the words she asked him what the letters looked like and he eventually admitted that they were blurry and some of them looked unfinished. Trevor then explained that Harry might need to wear glasses to help him see better. Harry had simply nodded and finished his lunch before asking to be excused.

He moved around for a few minutes, looking at the different frames, until a receptionist called his name and told him to come to the back. Harry glanced around until he caught Trevor's eye and silently begged the older man to go with him with his eyes. Trevor gave him a small nod and a smile and the two followed the young woman through the door while Leticia took a seat in the waiting area.

The next several minutes were spent testing his eyes with various machines. He didn't like the glaucoma test; the blasts of air irritated his eyes. He loved the huge box with the random dots of light that appeared as he thought it had been a game because he got to push the little button each time he saw a light. Finally he was seated before a weird alien looking machine that he had to look through to see the various pictures. He grew a little frustrated each time the optometrist would ask him which looked clearer and flipped the little glasses inside the machine around. He didn't get fussy; he just got tired of repeating himself.

Harry sighed in relief the moment it was over and gladly sat back while the doctor went on to explain that he'd need to wear glasses from now on to help him read and to see things that were really far away. He was then told he had the option of getting two pairs of glasses, one for reading and one for viewing things at a distance, or getting a pair of bifocals which combined the two into one pair of glasses. Harry wasn't sure and his little left shoulder rose in the half shrug that meant he was uncomfortable.

Trevor, picking up on the uncertainty merely suggested they go view the frames while they talked about it for a bit. Harry agreed after tentatively asking Trevor if he'd carry him back out into the lobby. Together they browsed the frames available and every so often Harry would try on a pair he thought looked cool. There were large thick black frames with round lenses, thin wire frames with oval lenses, lenses shaped like cat's eyes in pink, blue, and green frames, and dozens of others. Harry didn't really like any of them at first, most of them he thought were too big and bulky and were easily noticed or looked funny once he had them on.

Just when Trevor began to despair of ever finding a pair that Harry would willingly wear, the slightly finicky boy put on a pair of rimless glasses with rectangular lenses. At first glance, it didn't look like he was wearing glasses at all, until you noticed the thin, black wire bridge and arms. They were perfect in that they didn't draw attention away from Harry's bright green eyes. Harry grinned at Trevor through the mirror for a few minutes until the receptionist interrupted the moment by asking if they'd decided on a set of frames and if they'd be purchasing one or two pairs.

"Four," Trevor announced after studying Harry through the mirror. "A pair of reading glasses, a pair for viewing things at a distance, a pair of sunglasses for outdoor use, and a pair of bifocals in case he finds switching between the two a bit of a hassle. On the bifocals, do you use progressive lenses?"

"Did you want all four pairs in the same type of frames? Or would you like them each differently? And yes, we do have progressive bifocals, though they usually require larger lenses than those currently in these frames."

"All of them the same, please, and the slightly larger lenses on the one pair shouldn't be an issue as it will make it easier to distinguish between that pair and the others. How long before they will be ready?"

"Two weeks normally as we don't have a lab here on site."

"Is there anyway we can get them sooner?"

"We do have the option of putting a rush on the order but there are additional charges that apply."

"How much extra and how soon could our order be filled?"

"Forty-five pounds per pair of glasses, and we could have them tomorrow if we get the order sent to the lab before four-thirty."

"Perfect, please put a rush on all four pairs," Trevor insisted without hesitation. He wanted to give Harry plenty of time to get used to wearing the glasses before the gala, so he wouldn't draw extra attention to himself by fiddling with the frames all night – something he knew Harry wouldn't feel comfortable experiencing.

Fifteen minutes later, after paying for the lenses and leaving their number with the receptionist (who would call when the glasses arrived the following day) the three of them (plus their security shadow) exited the shop and headed back home. Harry seemed to be excited about receiving glasses and unhappy in turns. He wanted to see everything clearly; he just didn't want to be made fun of for having to wear glasses. By the time they reached the Compound though, Harry seemed to have forgotten all about having to wear glasses when Jack chattered on about expecting a reply sometime soon from his mother regarding his pictures from the dragon reserve.

Trevor chuckled softly as he caught sight of the nineteen year old and five year old enthusiastically talking about Harry's all time favorite subject; dragons.

_December 24, 1985 4:30 PM _

Harry fidgeted as he stood in front of a long mirror in his braces while Lucy and Jack fiddled with the little bit of hair that was finally growing back in after his surgery and skull replacement. Lucy had just massaged a light coating of styling gel into the inch long locks and was currently pulling a comb through his hair to make them stand straight up while Jack used a low level drying chair to hold them in place. He thought he looked silly, but Lucy insisted that if he was going to keep the bird's nest he called hair then he was at least going to have an orderly bird's nest. When they finished, Harry had to reevaluate his previous opinion as he thought he looked a little older now, especially with his glasses.

He'd been amazed at the difference the glasses had made that first day when he tried on each pair to have the arms adjusted so they all fit properly and wouldn't pinch his nose or rub the top of his ears raw. The best thing was the magical enhancements that Healer Weber added to the glasses later though. First, he charmed the lenses on each pair of glasses unbreakable, self cleaning, and scratch resistant. Then he reinforced the bridge and arms with strengthening charms to prevent them from getting bent out of shape or snapped on accident. A feather light charm and a cushioning charm to each frame reduced the awkwardness of wearing the glasses for the first time. Harry then watched as Jake used a spell to combine all four glasses into a single pair and applied a selective sticking charm to the bride and arms to prevent them from getting knocked off his face.

Jake also showed him how to switch between the various types of lenses by touching the right arm just beside where the right arm connected to the glass, explaining that each separate touch would cycle through the four types of lenses allow him to switch back and forth depending on what he was doing. Harry thought it was magical. The final charms on the glasses were a tracking charm and a tamper proof charm that would allow the glasses to be found incase they were lost (or allowed Harry to be found quickly in the event that he was kidnapped again) and prevented anyone else from adding any additional hexes, curses, or spells to the glasses. The tamper proof charm also prevented another wizard from summoning the glasses off of Harry's face.

"You can admire your reflection later, Sport," Trevor joked as he walked in carrying a freshly pressed set of slacks, dress shirt, and dress robes. "We need to get you into your monkey suit so we can leave. Williamson, you'd best go get your robes on as well. You and Carlson will be working with Glorthock and Glarthunk as Harry's escort inside tonight."

"Sure thing, Boss," Jack replied as he gave Harry a quick salute before heading off to get ready.

"Why's it called a monkey suit Trevor?"

"Because when you're older and have to dress up fancy you'll feel like you're being forced to put on a show for everyone else," Trevor explained as he helped Harry pull up his black dress pants and button the fly.

"Oh, I was thinking maybe it turned me into a monkey once I got it on."

Trevor laughed as he helped Harry take off his braces so they could pull on the cream colored dress shirt which was promptly tucked inside the waist of the pants. Next, Trevor clipped on a pair of black suspenders to hold Harry's pants in place before slipping a brown silk cumberbund around his waist. After that, tiny golden dragon head cufflinks were inserted into the cuffs of Harry's shirt, which thrilled the small boy when he saw them. A matching brown bowtie was then added, with Trevor patiently demonstrating how to tie the complex bow (knowing that Harry would eventually need to be able to tie his own.) Lastly, he helped Harry into the open fronted dark navy robes that they'd purchased that day in Diagon Alley earlier in the month and matching dragon hide boots that came up to Harry's the middle of Harry's thighs but were folded over so they weren't any higher then his knees.

When Harry next looked at his reflection, he thought he must look even older, at least as old as seven or eight, even though he was still fairly short because he still needed to have his spinal column regrown. Overall, he felt nice looking all gussied up. Trevor complimented him and lifted him up to his hip so they could meet the rest of their party down in the foyer.

Downstairs Jack, Robert 'Bob' Carlson (an older wizard guard), Lettie, and the two goblin brothers stood waiting for Trevor and Harry. Jack and Bob were dressed in dark green tuxedos, forgoing formal wizard robes in order to stand out as the guards they were and the two goblins were dressed in their ceremonial armor (minus the heavy battle axes) with dark green sashes tied horizontally across their chest declaring their allegiance to House Potter (the Potter colors traditionally a forest green and earthy brown, hence the reason Harry's cumberbund and tie were brown instead of the traditional black). Trevor's robes were the same style as Harry's but with the colors reversed (brown robes and navy cumberbund and tie) a bold statement as he'd completely omitted even the smallest token of his ancestral colors of goldenrod yellow and sky blue. Something the pureblood socialites present at the ball this evening would be quick to notice (well, those that were aware of his Wenlock heritage would notice anyway).

Leticia was a vision in pale violet robes that accentuated her petite form and brought out the golden highlights in her warm brown eyes. Her long black hair was twisted up in a French knot and secured with a golden clasp. She smiled at Harry and complimented his hair and robes before the group made their way out to the waiting land rover. (Trevor had bought the larger vehicle shortly after moving to the compound when it became obvious that his little Austin-Healey was too small to comfortably seat more than three people.)

Tonight, for once, Trevor sat in the back with Harry and Leticia as one of the muggle guards drove the group to the large banquet hall, just outside of London, that had been rented by the Ministry for the Christmas Ball. They first drove to an abandoned field, about two hundred miles to the south of the compound and Portkeyed the entire car to an abandoned factory just north of their final destination, and drove the rest of the way in to throw off any witches or wizards that might be trying to track Harry and to shorten the amount of driving time required to cover the distance.

The driver pulled up in front of the banquet hall and parked in front of the main entrance where Trevor, Lettie, Harry, and his four guards climbed out of the vehicle before the man drove off to wait out the ball at a predetermined location a good hundred miles away (another attempt to avoid their vehicle being used to track them when they left for the evening).

Lettie took a minute to straighten up Harry's robes that had become slightly rumpled during the drive before the group approached a pair of aurors guarding the entrance where they presented their invitations. Swallowing nervously at the intimidating pair of wizards dressed in blood red robes, Harry hurried through the door as fast as his braces would allow while the two goblins walked in front of him and Jack and Bob walked behind, boxing him in on all sides as Trevor and Lettie walked to either side of him.

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> _Yet another busy chapter… and Lucius was given the smack-down (so to speak) and will eventually face the music. Dumbledore escapes a wizard hunt due to his half-rescue but no one really trusts him. We saw Harry feeling secure enough to act like any cranky five year old in pain and then his immediate concern the day after as he immediately thought everyone was mad at him. The next chapter will have the actual ball, see a few familiar faces join the madness, and Harry's first Christmas._

_11-03-11: Fixed a minor typo in chapter.  
><em>


	17. Christmas Cheer

**Disclaimer: **_All HP characters are the property of JKR, the WB, and respective publishing companies - this is nothing more than a simple FanFiction that I have written. I have made no money from this or any of the other stories I have posted on this or other sites._

**AN:** _Story beta'd by my R/L daughter Sillyhobbit_.

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><p><em><strong><span>Chapter 17: Christmas Cheer<span>**_

_December 24, 1985 6:05 PM _

The large banquet hall had been expanded magically so that it could hold the well over fifteen hundred people expected to attend this year's Ministry Christmas Ball. The entire room was decorated in shades of pale yellows and soft pinks; with elaborate never melt ice sculptures of an assortment of magical creatures strategically placed on each of the tables. Delicate pink and yellow fairies fluttered dainty wings as they hovered near the magically preserved arrangements of pink and yellow lilies, white roses, and pale yellow and white daffodils artfully encircling each frozen statue. Garlands of flitterbloom, holly, and mistletoe were strung along the walls and over doorways with strings of pink pearls and soft yellow-gold ribbons twisting through them.

On either end of the great hall, a large fir tree was decorated with ribbons, pearl strings, fairy lights, and elaborate crystal and gold ornaments, the tops crowned with animated gold and pink phoenixes that would periodically sing to groups of witches and wizards that gathered near the trees. Under one tree, were the gifts that each guest was required to bring for the hostess, Minister Longbottom, and under the other were the gifts the minister had provided for each of the guests; to be handed out at the end of the evening. The gifts Madam Longbottom collected, on the other hand, would be distributed to the long term patients at St. Mungo's tomorrow morning by the Aurors.

Trevor directed Harry towards the tree where the gifts for St. Mungo's were to be placed, so the child could place the four gifts he'd helped pick out under the tree. On the outside of the wrapping paper on each present was a single word indicating the age group each gift was geared towards, the gifts were labeled as follows; adult wizard, adult witch, child wizard, and child witch. The gifts were a silver fob watch, silver unicorn broach, a three inch dragon model (an animated magical one), and a porcelain doll in silver dress robes and matching witch's hat. Leticia had helped to chose all of the gifts except the dragon for some little boy wizard forced to spend Christmas day in the hospital; Harry had picked that one out all by himself.

Harry also had a gift wrapped set of cast iron figures exactly like the ones that Leticia had given him during the summer, except the dragon in the new set wasn't sitting up begging for food with its mouth open, that Harry had brought to give to Minister Longbottom's grandson when he heard there'd be another boy his age at the ball. Harry was not looking forward to meeting the other boy as he still felt uncomfortable around children his own age but after hearing a few of the security guards whisper of the boy's suspected lack of a proper magical core, Harry had asked Leticia if he could get another set of the figures for the boy some wizards considered a freak, a sentiment that Harry could empathize with very easily.

After depositing the charity gifts beneath the tree, Harry was escorted through the growing crowds to where the forbidding figure of the new Minister was greeting various visiting dignitaries and members of the Wizengamot. By her side was a young boy nearly a foot taller and several inches wider than Harry dressed in pale blue robes with a pale green cumberbund and tie (the Longbottom house colors). As they approached the Minister, the two goblins dropped back behind the group and allowed the humans room to greet the minister.

"Minister Longbottom," Trevor greeted formerly as he shook her hand. "May I present Mr. Harry Potter, Ms. Leticia Hall, Mr. Jack Williamson, and Mr. Bob Carlson? Also attending with us tonight are Outcast Clan members Glorthock and Glarthunk."

Minister Longbottom greeted each of the adults in turn before she leaned down to address Harry and shake his hand. "A pleasure to meet you as well, Mr. Potter. It is good to see you looking in much better health."

"Thank you, Minister," Harry shyly returned as he unobtrusively moved closer to Trevor.

"May I introduce my grandson, Neville Longbottom," Madam Longbottom continued as she gently pushed Neville closer to Harry.

"Hello," Neville squeaked nervously as he stared at the ground.

"Hi," Harry replied just as nervously. "I brought you a present." Harry added as he put the gaily wrapped gift in the taller boy's hands.

"You d...didn't have t...to," Neville stuttered in surprise as he limply held the small package in his hands.

"Wanted to," Harry said simply before his nervousness got the better of him and he once more sought out Trevor, who had been off to one side conversing with the Minister and a red robed Amelia Bones who'd just joined them.

Neville frowned after Harry but felt no urge to follow the strange boy he knew was called a hero by most people. Like Harry, he wasn't very comfortable around other children or other people for that matter, due to his grandmother keeping him sequestered on the Longbottom estates most of the time. After a few minutes, Trevor made his excuses to Minister Longbottom and Director Bones and escorted Harry and Leticia over to their assigned seats near the sculpture of a flat-faced kneazle sitting majestically on a bed of roses. Harry only glanced at the relatively uninteresting sculpture once and felt disappointed that it wasn't a dragon.

Around seven o-clock the first course of dinner was served, a small garden salad with fresh vegetables and thick, creamy blue cheese dressing. Next came a steaming bowl of clam chowder followed by a choice of poached salmon or roast leg of lamb, both entrees served on a bed of wild rice and a side of garlic roasted potatoes. For dessert there was pumpkin bread smothered with cream cheese and bowls of raspberry sorbet.

While they ate, Harry listened to Trevor and Leticia carrying conversations with their table companions. He was only rarely drawn into one conversation or the other, as he was somewhat sheltered from where he sat between the two adults. Behind him, standing unobtrusively against the wall, were his bodyguards for the evening, their job to discretely discourage any other guests from seeking Harry out during the meal. Dessert was a new experience for Harry, as he tried a little of both offered. He wasn't certain he liked the taste of the cream cheese but enjoyed the spicy and nutty flavor of the bread. The sorbet, that he thought of as ice cream was the best though; slightly sweet with a bit of a tangy taste, he scooped up every last bite with relish.

After the meal, the guests were asked to stand as the tables and chairs melted from view, leaving the floor wide open for the dancing. A single table of hor d'oeuvres and chilled drinks remained up against the wall in the middle of the room and several short benches were scattered through the room for those wishing to rest their feet. The dancing was then opened by the members of the Wizengamot, as a string quartet played a rather sedate waltz. After the first song, other witches and wizards joined them on the dance floor while those choosing not to dance moved closer to the walls so as not to get in the way.

Trevor and Leticia mingled with other guests as required, though neither strayed too far from Harry where he sat on a bench between his two goblin guards while the wizards watching over him circulated the room for a few minutes, checking in with the aurors guarding the various guests in attendance. Several witches tried dragging Harry out onto the dance floor a few times but word quickly spread that the goblins wouldn't tolerate their charge being manhandled by those ignoring the boy's polite refusals. Foreign ambassadors occasionally attempted to draw Harry into a conversation on current politics but few of them succeed to get more than a polite hello from the extremely uncomfortable child.

Leticia eventually managed to get Harry out on the dance floor for a dance towards the end of the night, encouraging him to stand on her feet to protect them from left footed men, while she twirled them around the room much to the consternation of several purebloods who'd tried and failed to secure a dance with the boy hero. Nearby, Amelia and Trevor danced gracefully together so they could prevent the decidedly mismatched pair from being accosted during or after their dance. Amelia then switched partners with Leticia, much to the amusement of Trevor and several of the aurors watching over their boss.

Harry would have returned to his seat after the second dance but the Minister claimed him for the last dance of the night, much to his embarrassment. The stately and more than a little formidable woman praised Harry gently for surviving the evening and wished him a Happy Christmas once the music came to a stop. Harry blushed and thanked her, before he turned to find Trevor, hoping to sit down and rest for a moment. At that exact moment one Gilderoy Lockhart, who'd been trying to get close to Harry all evening, accosted the young man by grabbing hold of Harry's right arm, causing Harry to roughly lose his balance when one of his braces was roughly pulled out of place.

"Harry, my lad! What a stunning performance, I simply must get a picture taken with you," Gilderoy crowed as he attempted to drag Harry towards the edge of the dance floor. "Together you and I rate the front page!"

Before Lockhart took more then two steps there were four wands pointing right at his face and two goblin short swords tickling his kidneys. Lockhart's smile faltered slightly as he met the steely eyed glares of Kingsley Shacklebolt, Amelia Bones, Bob Carlson, and Jack Williamson. "Really now, the boy just agreed to sit for a few photos, there's no harm in having a few pictures taken is there?"

Two sharp sword tips nudging none too gently into his back made him stop talking as Trevor pushed his way to through the crowd and leveled his icy hazel eyes at Lockhart and angrily hissed, "Take your hands off of him now, or I will order the two goblins standing behind you to stick you like the pig you are."

Gilderoy dropped Harry's arm as if he'd burnt his hand and opened his mouth to defend himself once more, only to feel the sharp tips of the swords prod him a second time. Swallowing thickly, he just gave those still glaring at him a sickly grin while Trevor immediately lifted Harry from the floor as the boy had fallen when he was released.

"Are you alright, son?" Trevor asked as he held Harry protectively against his chest.

Harry shook his head and curled into Trevor's shoulder while Trevor turned his raptor's gaze back to Gilderoy and declared loudly, "If I find a single bruise on his body because of the way you manhandled him, I will nail your coffin shut with my bare hands – with you still alive inside!"

"Now see here!" Gilderoy exclaimed indignantly. "You can't just go around assaulting and threatening people! Don't you know who I am!"

"Yes, I know exactly who you are. You are the pathetic wizard that just tried to forcibly drag an unarmed child away from his family without permission."

"He's not a child! He's been declared an adult," Lockhart stupidly countered. "I have as much right as anyone here to approach the man about mutually beneficial contracts between our families."

"His age has not changed, he is still only a five year old boy and as my bonded son you have no right to get within five feet of him without my express permission. His legal status does not beget the world at large the right to exploit him without his permission and mine. I will see you in court, Lockhart. And then we will see just how much of a wand you have to stand on. And don't forget, if I find a single bruise because you grabbed him the way you did, I will see more than your reputation buried."

"Arrest him, Shack, we'll take his statement _after_ the winter holidays," Amelia added as she kept her wand pointed at Lockhart's face.

The crowd opened up readily as the still sputtering Lockhart was dragged away in handcuffs while Glorthock picked up the brace Harry had dropped when he'd been grabbed. Glarthunk had followed behind Lockhart, his sword still out, to make sure the wizard did not get away. Williamson and Carlson cleared a path through to the nearest bench while Trevor carried Harry away from the gawking spectators, his face silently daring anyone else to try anything. Leticia joined them a few minutes later with one of the various St. Mungo's healers that were attending the ball.

Trevor tried to set Harry down on the bench but the child had wrapped his left arm around Trevor's neck and refused to let go. Instead he sat down first and settled Harry on his lap as he whispered reassurances into his ear and rubbed his back. With Leticia's help, they unbuttoned the sleeve on his right arm and pulled the fabric back to expose his bare arm. There was a long, bright bruise and shallow scratch from where his brace had scraped against his arm when Gilderoy had first grabbed his arm. There was also a set of dark bruises forming just above the elbow shaped like a hand.

Amelia, and several Aurors who'd answered her summons, duly took note of the injury while Trevor fought to keep his anger in check. A random wizard offered his camera to one of the Aurors when he heard them requesting a couple of photos to be taken as evidence before the injury was healed. Amelia took the man's name and promised to have his camera returned to him along with his photos and a replacement roll of film sometime after Christmas.

After the pictures were taken, the healer cast a diagnostic charm over Harry's arm before applying a numbing charm to stop the pain and a general healing charm to reduce the swelling. He then suggested they follow up with Harry's private healer sometime in the next couple days to make certain it was healing properly. Leticia assured him that Harry would be well looked after and thanked him for helping. Trevor then excused himself and Harry after giving his apologies to the Minister for disrupting the evening. Bob and Jack escorted Trevor, Harry, and Leticia out of the building at that point while Glorthock followed behind; making sure no one attacked the group in the way out.

Because they were leaving the ball early, they called a cab to take them halfway home instead of waiting for their driver to return. Bob waited until Jack climbed into the cab with the trio, before he apparated with Glorthock to the land rover's location and let the driver know he would need to meet the taxi at the emergency pick up location they'd set up earlier.

It was long after midnight by the time the cab pulled up outside of a privately owned motel and Jack stepped out of the cab first to scan the immediate area for threats while Trevor paid the driver before climbing out behind Leticia. They were met by Glarthunk and Glorthock who had arrived just a few minutes earlier and the group cautiously made their way around to the back of the building where Bob was waiting beside the land rover.

A ten minute drive later; they Portkeyed the land rover to Northumberland, drove west into Cumbria, Portkeyed a second time into the southern most tip of Lincolnshire, pointed their vehicle to the south and east, and drove the rest of the way home in silence. Harry refused to budge from Trevor's arms the entire way, his tiny left hand fisted tightly in the brown robes Trevor was wearing, even long after he'd fallen asleep from the exhausting night.

They were met at the door of the compound by an exhausted Jake Weber, who'd been asked to work a double shift that night to cover for those attending the ball, and a concerned Amelia Bones who'd Floo'd into the Compound not long after Trevor and the others had left the ball. Amelia had been the one to contact Jake, to let him know that Harry had been injured during the ball. Jake had been on his way home when he'd received Amelia's patronus message and he'd headed over as soon as he'd gathered his emergency kit.

A quick scan of Harry's arms turned up nothing more than the bruises and a strained elbow, the reason for the swelling earlier, so he reapplied the numbing charm that had slowly been wearing off, slathered on a generous glob of bruise cream, and pressed a pain relieving potion into Trevor's hands in case the charm wore off during the night. He also gave Trevor a couple of calming droughts after taking in his friend's stony expression.

Once upstairs in Harry's attic loft, Trevor gently pried Harry's hand from his robe and helped the exhausted child out of his good clothes. He spent a few minutes spreading the soothing muscle salve on Harry's back and legs in case to help prevent his muscles from seizing up during the night after spending so much of the night on his feet, then helped Harry get into his pajamas. Trevor spent the night with Harry that night for the first time in nearly a month at Harry's pleading request to not be left alone.

Down on the floor of the attic, the entire troop of Younglings camped on the grassy carpet floor while Jack took up a position below the loft at the foot of the stairs.

_December 25, 1985 12:01 PM _

Harry slept through most of the early morning hours, waking only once when the numbing charm had worn off his still healing arm. Trevor gave him a sip of the pain potion and Harry settled back to sleep as soon as it took effect. In combination to the long and stressful evening, the pair slept all through the morning, not waking up again till lunch time. When they finally did wake up, Harry was feeling much better even with the lingering soreness in his arm. He didn't cling to Trevor like he had the night before, his fears far easier to sooth this time since he'd been rescued so quickly.

A small lunch of roast beef sandwiches and vegetable beef soup was eaten in the middle of the attic on the floor with the Younglings. Trevor proudly marveled over Harry's near flawless greeting the child gave the goblins in their own language before asking them in English if the two of them could join the Youngling for lunch. The goblins had readily agreed by offering up a plate of sandwiches as Harry pulled Trevor down onto the floor. Afterwards the goblins wished Harry a Happy Christmas and presented the boy with his first gifts of the morning; a large basket of assorted goblin treats and candies, a leather bound, handwritten English to Gobbledygook dictionary, a hand sewn quilt with a dark green dragon on one side and a bright red one on the other, two yards of thick, green dragon hide, and a walking stick carved with protective ruins and capped with crystal ball that had a silver dragon inside.

Harry, with Trevor's help, had given the goblins a more practical gift in return, in the form of a small heard of cows that were currently grazing in one of the empty pastures of the compound. They'd arrived two days earlier to the surprise and joy of the goblins living under the compound. Goblins loved a wide variety of meats and beef was a rare delicacy due to the difficulties of raising the large animals in the underground caverns below Gringotts; one of the reasons they ate a large amount of sheep, goat, and bicorn with the occasional deer thrown in, when said deer could be found. To the goblins, the gift of fourteen cows and one bull was a veritable treasure without equal. Harry had been embarrassed by the reaction from the goblins but was happy that his gift had been so well received. Harry had also gifted a small flock of chickens and a rooster to the two goblin cooks, who'd been ecstatic to have a source of fresh eggs.

After the impromptu gathering broke up, Trevor carried Harry downstairs into the living room where a Christmas tree had been set up just a few days before the ball. There were now a large assortment of presents piled around said tree, many of which Harry could see had his name on them. Leticia, Lucy, Grace, Jack, and Klouse joined them a few minutes later, the later carrying a large platter with an enormous Christmas pudding on top. Harry's eyes lit up as he saw the Christmas pudding, he'd helped the cooks to make it earlier in the month, as the fruits marinated in aged cider. He was looking forward to trying the delectable looking treat, once his tummy wasn't so full from lunch.

Jake, who had spent the night in one of the guest suites, joined them a few minutes later having just woken up from his late night at work. Harry was seated in the middle of the floor while most of the adults sat in various seats around the room, except Klouse who had been nominated earlier that morning to play Father Christmas. He was not dressed in a red suit with a fake beard but rather bright red robes trimmed with white fur and a black sash. He stood beside the tree while waiting for everyone to take their places, once they were settled, he began passing out the presents.

"Hey, Klouse, why does there seem to be far more gifts under the tree then there were yesterday afternoon?" Trevor asked in confusion.

"Ah, well you see, we received two deliveries this morning," Klouse explained. "It seems there have been at least two wizards collecting young Harry's gifts over the last four years; presents from every holiday imaginable including his last four birthdays."

"These would be the missing 'fan' gifts?"

"Yes, Amelia was called in to the holding cells by a frantic Auror this morning. Twenty-seven house elves, belonging to our friend Lockhart, had shown up promptly at six with close to five hundred gifts all addressed to Harry and another three hundred addressed to various other witches and wizards. The entire lot was confiscated and subjected to searches (looking for magical hexes, curses, and other harmful magics) while Lockhart was interrogated on the reason why he was getting the gifts. Apparently he ordered his elves to begin gathering the unclaimed gifts after a Prophet article on that first Christmas in eighty-one. I can give you the details later, basically it all boils down to the fact that our not so golden defense expert Gilderoy has been stealing Harry's fan mail and gifts ever since, as well as the gifts of a few other famous individuals. These ones here are only about a quarter of what was sent, there were several that were set aside because they failed the scans for one reason or another, and the rest still need to be sorted through."

"You said there were two people hoarding the gifts. Who was the second?"

"Dumbledore, unsurprisingly. He'd been having the Hogwarts elves collect gifts meant for Harry from the students and staff and putting them in storage; his reasons were that he didn't want Harry's fame to go to his head at such a young age. He only got caught because his new Deputy Headmaster, Silvanus Kettleburn, found him attaching tracking charms to a bunch of them and turning them into portkeys last night. Kettleburn ordered the elves to deliver the entire lot of gifts to the Ministry, the ones he spelled were summarily disabled after being documented and sent here shortly after the others. Amelia promised to have the rest delivered sometime this evening or tomorrow as she didn't want to work the Aurors too much today."

"What about the past gifts Lockhart took from earlier years?"

"They're being confiscated from his house but it will take time to sort everything out. Luckily the idiot admitted to keeping a detailed catalog of which gifts were addressed to which celebrity along with whom they were from."

Trevor just shook his head and sat back while Klouse went back to distributing the rest of the gifts. Harry was practically buried under the pile that surrounded him but his soft giggles could be heard every now and then by those watching. Once the last gift was handed to its intended owner, Klouse asked Harry who should open the first gift; thinking the boy would immediately request the honor. However, he shouldn't have been surprised when Harry immediately asked Trevor to go first, shyly asking the squib to open the gift he'd made for him.

Trevor obliged and unwrapped a large, flat rectangular box to reveal Harry's first crayon drawing that he'd started that summer. The drawing had been painstakingly finished and contained the gnarled tree, a pair of stick figures, a stick dragon, rugged clouds, and a sun in the corner. It had been enlarged to twice its original size and framed in rune carved oak. As he studied the picture, he was caught off guard by the dragon taking flight in the air and breathing fire as the clouds swept off the page while the sun sank. The two stick figures, one smaller than the other, held hands and waved as a moon rose to replace the sun and the sky grew dark as stars twinkled into existence. Trevor looked up to see worried green eyes watching him from over a pile of presents.

"It's wonderful, Sport!" Trevor exclaimed with genuine pleasure. "When did you make this?"

"It took me a long time," Harry confessed. "Lettie helped me a bit and Jack did the magic stuff to make it move. Glorthock made the frame for me."

"I must say you did an excellent job, Sport!"

Leticia's gift had been similar but hers was a giant crayon flower that swayed in an unseen breeze with a tiny dragon sleeping in the center of the petals. Tiny streams of smoke curling could be seen rising from the dragon's nose. Klouse also received one of Harry's drawings; his picture was a giant dragon that marched back and forth under a starry sky, spitting fire as it went. Lucy and Grace received matching silver and gold unicorn pendant necklaces that Leticia had helped him pick out. Jack received a matching set of dragon hide boots and gloves in bright green, a gift suggested by one of the goblins when Harry had mentioned not knowing what to get the young guard who had befriended him not that long ago.

The original six goblin Younglings, who were spending the day with their family and friends at Gringotts, had been given five yards of fine white silk woven through with real silver threads. Glorthock, Backbiter, and Stonegut also received five yards of white silk, theirs woven through with gold threads. Harry had wanted to do something special for those goblins as they'd been some of his first friends, though he didn't really know Backbiter and Stonegut all that well. Trevor had made the comment that goblins prized precious metals and pure gemstones and Leticia had noted that goblins constantly seemed to wear lots of gold and silver accessories on their clothing. The two ideas together had given Harry the idea to ask why goblins didn't wear clothes made with gold and silver threads – he'd seen plenty of such fabrics when trying on dress shirts at the Muggle department store. Not knowing what sizes or styles the goblins were likely to wear; he'd allowed Leticia to talk him in to giving them several yards of the fabric instead of buying ready made shirts.

All of Harry's gifts were well received, the receivers appreciating the effort Harry had put into making them or picking them out with a bit of help. They may have seemed a bit simple to some but when you considered the fact that these were the first gifts Harry had ever given to anyone, these were impressive in their own rights. Trevor, on Harry's behalf, had also given all of the employees Christmas bonuses and gift baskets of traditional Christmas treats.

After everyone present had opened their gifts from Harry, he was finally talked into opening some of the many presents that surrounded him. The only request Trevor made was that Harry allow one of the adults wizards present to help him with the ones from Hogwarts and the fans just in case any of them contained something that might harm him. Harry readily agreed, shyly asking Jack (who had the smallest pile of gifts to open, having opened most of his with his family earlier that morning) if he'd mind helping. Jack, of course, agreed without any hesitation.

The first ones Harry opened were the gifts from those in the room, the people nearest and dearest to Harry's heart. From Jake, he received a pair of muggle footballs, one black and white and the other blue and white. Leticia gave him a couple of warm sweaters and a battery powered nightlight shaped like a dragon holding a crystal ball, the crystal glowing a soft green when turned on. Trevor had given him the large Pterodactyl fossil replica, a muggle chess set, and the magical painting of a Chinese Fireball, a scarlet and gold dragon, flying through the mountain on the canvas.

Jack's gift was a collection of one inch dragon egg shards, one from each type of captive bred dragon, mounted on a slab of polished cedar and encased in a protective glass box. Each shard was individually labeled with information about the breed of dragon that hatched from the original egg, including which reservation the shard came from. Klouse gave Harry a set of leather bound magical and muggle fairytale books for his personal library as well as the full set of miniature magical dragon figures, each one three inches tall and hand painted to look like the type of dragon it represented. Harry would have stopped opening gifts at this point if not for the adults gently reminding him he wasn't finished.

Lucy and Grace, with Trevor's permission, gave Harry his first pet. It was a tiny seven week old, dark orange and cream female tabby kitten with dainty white socks, bib, and tail tip, and bright orange-yellow eyes. She had huge ears that seemed far too big for her narrow face, short fur with dark orange swirls and stripes over a soft cream undercoating, and a long slender tail. The moment the lid of her carrying basket had been lifted, she yowled fiercely and clawed her way over the top to the shock of Harry, who'd not expected a live present. The little kitten then began head butting and rubbing her face into Harry's belly while mewling piteously and purring at the same time. Bewildered, Harry darted looks from the kitten to each of the adults in turn, feeling more then a bit uncertain about being allowed a pet.

"She'll need a name, Harry," Lucy announced.

"I can… I can keep her?"

"Yes, I picked her out just for you," Grace added. "Mum's calico had kittens about two months back and she was the only girl in the litter and the only one that was orange."

Looking down at the little bundle of fur and energy in his lap, Harry tentatively reached out to rub the back of the kitten's head. He was rewarded with a loud purr and needle sharp kitten teeth catching hold of his thumb. He giggled and promptly called her a vicious little dragon much to the amusement of the adults. Inside Dragon's basket, there were also several cans of kitten food, a pair of plastic food and water dishes, some cat toys, a pint sized litter box, and a bag of kitten litter. Dragon spent the next hour happily perched on Harry's left shoulder while he opened several more gifts, these from the many adoring fans he'd previously not known existed.

There were dozens of spell books, numerous stuffed animals, all types of magical action figures of famous witches and wizards, tons of wizarding candy – including a certificate for a lifetime supply of Chocolate Frogs from the owners of Honeydukes, a few training brooms, several stationary sets, wizard robes in all imaginable colors (and some not so imaginable), pointed wizard hats, precious and semi-precious stones, and various other magical trinkets. There were also hundreds of Christmas cards containing various amounts of wizarding money, photos of the sender, and the rare marriage contract; the latter of which were collected by Trevor and Klouse in order to make sure there weren't any legal traps hidden in the wording of the contract and so they could be filed away for a time when Harry was old enough to consider accepting one of the many contracts. Leticia kept a list of names and gifts in a spiral notebook so that thank you cards could be sent out after the holidays.

From the Department of Magical Sports and Games, specifically from the Quidditch League, there was a professional set of Quidditch balls, signed posters from each of the various league teams, and a used quaffle that had been signed by the national players of both teams from the most recent World Cup. The red ball floated inside of a large square crystal cube and was accompanied by a golden snitch, which darted around continuously inside the cube. Both the signed quaffle and the snitch were the ones used during the World Cup game that had taken place this past August and lasted over seventeen hours. Along with this elaborate gift were a heartfelt letter saying that the teams were hoping Harry was feeling better and a card wishing Harry a happy Christmas and belated happy birthday.

Another unique gift was a box of a dozen rare plant seedlings that Neville Longbottom sent along with a thank you note for the toy figures. The seedlings were taken from the Longbottom green houses and placed in a status field to ensure they survived the short time spent outside of the protective charms and wards of the greenhouse. There was a detailed description of each plant, a hand drawn picture of what the mature plant would look like, and a list of five potions each plant was typically used in. It was a marvelous gift but one that Harry wouldn't really appreciate until he was older and had a better understanding of herbology and potions.

At this point a short break was taken and the Christmas pudding cut and served while the majority of the opened gifts were carried up to the loft for Harry to sort and put away later. The exceptions were Dragon, who was currently stealing bits of Christmas pudding from Harry's fork, and the dragon figures that Klouse had given him, which were lined up around the edge of Harry's plate roaring and flapping their wings at each other.

When he finished eating, Harry played with his dragons for a little while before he was prodded into opening some more of the gifts. Harry balked for a few minutes, saying he was kind of tired and didn't really want to open them. His reasoning was there were far too many for one boy – even one as spoiled as his cousin had been. Trevor agreed that in most cases Harry would be right and said that Harry didn't really have to keep any of the gifts if he didn't want them, giving him an option of donating them to St. Mungo's or some of the poorer families that couldn't afford to buy many gifts. But, Harry was required to open them all so that thank you cards could be sent as it was rude not to acknowledge the efforts of the people who genuinely sent him the gifts out of kindness. Harry didn't quite understand the reasoning but he did understand the concept of thanking the senders and so reluctantly turned his attention to the gifts.

There were even more books (many of them duplicates of ones he'd opened earlier), more candies, dozens of more cards and monetary gifts, as well as gift certificates for various stores. From the students at Hogwarts there were Zonko's joke products (such as dungbombs and frog spawn soap), bottles of butterbeer, fancy quills and colored inks, thick bars of Honeydukes best fudge and chocolate, several rolls of parchment in pale green, blue, purple, and standard yellow, and boxes of owl treats. When Harry asked why he was being given bird food, Trevor explained that it was so he could offer the owls that delivered his mail a treat. Harry, who'd not yet seen the majestic birds delivering post, said he thought it was weird to use birds to deliver the mail.

From the staff members of Hogwarts there was a charmed winter cloak, a winter quilt in red, blue, and gold, several children's story books, an interactive map of the stars (from Professor Sinistra, who taught astronomy), a large box of pumpkin pasties and cauldron cakes, a set of everlasting snowflake ornaments, a wizarding chess set, a tiny jar of pickled squids (from Professor Snape, though he didn't put his name on the gift – which he only sent because Dumbledore had ordered him to), a miniscule crystal ball and set of tarot cards (from Professor Trelawney), a box of Cribbage's Wizarding Crackers, and two sets of gobstones in blue and red.

There was also a bulky, parchment wrapped bundle that had an unsigned note indicating the item inside belonged to his father. Jack confiscated this one before Harry could open it when he detected an inverted tracking charm on the note paper and a shielding charm on the wrapping paper (which shielded the contents from magical scans) using a goblin spell Glorthock had taught him to scan suspicious packages and items. This was turned over to security for evaluation with the promises that once the item (or items) inside were declared hex, curse, and charm free, it would be returned to Harry who'd watched the present being carried away with a wistful expression. Of course, that was only because the gift was supposed to have belonged to his father.

There were only two gifts remaining by this time. One was from an Arabella Figg and the other was from a wizard by the name of D. Diggle. The Diggle character had given Harry a box of a hundred nightlight stars; glass stars that hovered several feet below the ceiling and glowed with soft white, yellow, blue, and purple lights. There was also a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, a box of Cribbage's Wizarding Crackers, and several magical creature figurines (a unicorn, fairy, winged horse, crup, phoenix, kneazle, and a couple other 'light' oriented creatures).

Mrs. Figg sent a young crup puppy that hadn't had its tail cropped yet, it was currently sleeping in the bottom of the magical carrier. Her accompanying letter was tear stained and partially incoherent but the gist of it implied she'd lived near Harry's aunt and uncle for the last four years and had been ordered by Dumbledore to keep an eye on young Harry; only she'd been unable to do so because the Dursleys had never acknowledged Harry's existence. She apologized no less than eighteen times in the letter while begging for forgiveness for failing him. The puppy, she said, was purchased for him in the hopes that it would guard him better than she had.

Dragon immediately took offense to said puppy as she yowled and hissed her displeasure loudly while arching her back and pinning her ears back against her head. The crup never stirred though, having been placed into a magical sleep by the breeder so that it would remain calm during transportation.

Trevor was uncertain about the merits of keeping the magical puppy. Crups were well known for distrusting muggles in general and there were many muggles currently living on the Compound. Then there was the fact that Harry had already been given one pet to take care of and worried a second one might turn out to be too much responsibility for one small child. On the other hand, crups were extremely loyal and protective of their families and if properly trained, they were well behaved companions for children. He could also see that Harry was interested in the little pup but once again uncertain if he'd be allowed to keep the animal.

"I had not expected a witch or wizard to make a gift of a pet," Trevor slowly pointed out, still considering the matter in his mind. "It's considered a major faux pas by wizarding standards, especially for a child who may or may not be able to take care of the animal. Odd too, that this woman readily admitted to living in Surrey on Dumbledore's orders."

"What's going to happen to the puppy?" Harry asked in a tiny voice as he tried to calm Dragon down by petting her.

"Well, we have three options available right now," Trevor answered. "One, we can return it to the breeder; two, we can put the pup up for adoption in the hopes that an older witch or wizard would take it; or three, we can keep it. If, and I stress _if_, we keep the puppy there are going to be some strict rules. If those rules aren't followed then the puppy will have to go to a new home."

"What kind of rules?"

"First, the puppy would need to have its tale cropped (as required by law) and it would need to be registered with the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Secondly, the pup would need to be trained professionally, so that the crup's normal tendency to dislike muggles and non-family members can be curbed and controlled so it won't bother the security guards and other staff. Lastly, you would need to be responsible for taking care of both animals. That means making sure they are fed every day, that any messes they make are picked up promptly, and that they are house trained. I realize that since both are exceptionally young, that you might need a little help in the beginning but I don't want you leaving their care to one of the maids or other servants and staff."

Leticia looked like she was going to protest placing so much responsibility on such a young child but Klouse's hand on her shoulder made her swallow any verbal challenge. This wasn't just any ordinary child they were dealing with and ultimately it was up to Trevor to decide.

"Does that sound like something you want to do, something you think you can do?" Trevor asked after letting things sink in a bit.

"I… I don't know. Dragon doesn't like the puppy and she was here first. I don't know how to take care of cats or dogs, but I'd like to learn, I think. Can… I mean, may I try?"

"If that is what you want to do. Remember, you can ask for help any time you need, just don't expect other people to do all the work, alright?"

"Alright," Harry agreed as he reached one hand inside the carrier and petted the puppy for the first time. "Will Dragon fight with the puppy though?

"Don't worry; Dragon will eventually forget that she doesn't like dogs, especially if the two of them spend a lot of time together."

"Why don't we take the pup out of the carrier and get a good look at him or her?" Jack inquired as he cleared the last of the loose gift wrap out of the way and took a seat beside Harry. At Harry's nod, Jack reached in and lifted the sleeping up out and tucked it into Harry's arms much to Dragon's annoyance, as she still clung to Harry's shirt spitting, hissing, and growling.

Harry absently soothed Dragon with one hand, or at least tried to as the kitten hissed and spit at the smell of dog on his fingers, while studying the little bundle in his arms. The puppy was mostly white with one black and tan patch on its left ear. The soft puppy fur was shot through with short wiry hair that stuck out in every direction. The registration application (provided by the breeder) listed the pup as a nine week old female and paper trained.

After Harry cuddled the puppy for a few minutes, Jake took her outside to magically crop her tail while she remained under the influence of the sleeping spell. Ten minutes later she was nestled in Harry's arms once again, minus the forked tail. Dragon darted off at this point to explore the room, her interest and disgruntlement with the puppy fading as quickly as it had come. Near supper time, the as yet unnamed pup woke up at last and whined as it rooted around in Harry's elbow looking for food. After figuring out that the puppy was hungry (it had been in a magical sleep for nearly three days after all), Harry asked what he should feed her. According to the note from the breeder on the application for registration, she'd been weaned four weeks earlier and fed a wizarding brand dog food called Pupcorn – a combination of beef, pork, and chicken chunks combined with breaded carrot and potato cubes and covered with thick gravy.

Klouse commented that it sounded more like a wizard's dinner than dog food which made Harry laugh as Trevor asked Klouse if he'd like to try some in place of supper that night. Klouse said he be willing but only if Trevor had some too. It was at this point that several members of security approached carrying boxes of more presents addressed to Harry. Trevor had them place them at the base of the tree, giving Harry permission to leave them until tomorrow. Before the guards left, they announced that the entire team had a gift for Harry out in the back yard and asked if he could come out and open it.

Jack, with Trevor's permission, carried Harry (who in turn carried his crup) out to receive his next to last gift for the day while Leticia and the two maids gathered up all of Harry's unwrapped presents and took them upstairs to the attic along with the still excited Dragon. Trevor opted to stay inside so he could put the various marriage contracts, crup registration form, and other documents away as well as to check on the status of the anonymous gift that had been spelled.

Outside, Bob Carlson led the small group of guards plus Harry and Klouse to a small stand of old black poplar trees that stood near the western side of the house. The only apparent new addition to the small grouping of trees was a large red ribbon had been stretched between two of the trees at the edge of the group. Puzzled, Harry glanced from the ribbon to Bob and back again. After a minute one of the other guards present suggested Harry pull the ribbon open.

Shrugging, Harry reached forward with one hand and tugged on the loose end of the small bow tied in the ribbon. As the ribbon fluttered to the ground the space between the trees expanded out and back to reveal a small playground obstacle course. There were swings, monkey bars (no monkeys unfortunately), a huge twisting slide, a set of rings hung over a span of about six yards, and a ladder leading up into to a rambling tree house that was built around the treetops of the entire stand of trees. The best part, to Harry's mind, is that the entire playground could be hidden by tying the ends of the ribbons back together making it a secret hideaway.

Only the whimpers and whines coming from the tiny crup in his arms prevented Harry from spending a couple of hours playing on the swings or exploring the treetop fort. He thanked the guards profusely and promised to come out and play on the toys soon, apologizing for not having the time to play right now. Bob told him not to worry about it; he could come out anytime to play.

The return trip to the house was made through the kitchen so that Harry could request a few slices of the left over roast beef from lunch in order to feed his puppy. An offering the crup gladly accepted as Harry fed her tiny bits one at a time by hand. By the time she finished the last bite, the crup had established a loyalty bond to her new owner – the first person to ever hand feed her.

In the dining room, Harry was asked to place the puppy on a seat cushion hastily placed in the corner while he washed up and ate his supper. Trevor requesting that she be taught to stay in the corner in a dog bed (which would be picked up later) and not encouraged to beg for food from the table. Harry reluctantly agreed and gently placed the now drowsy pup on the cushion where she promptly fell asleep. All through the three courses of supper (a garden salad, Christmas goose with all the trimmings, and strawberry shortcake for pudding) Harry kept sneaking glances at the puppy. Dragon had been relegated to the attic already so she wasn't underfoot during the meal.

After dinner, Trevor carried Harry up to his room with the pup and the two spent an hour putting away Harry's many gifts; setting aside those gifts that Harry wished to donate as well as any books that they already had copies of in the library downstairs or in Harry's private library in his loft. Jack joined them a few minutes after they began, carrying a charmed box in which they would store the donations. The young wizard also created two niches in the wall above Harry's bed. One was placed at the foot of the bed and used to hold the dragon nightlight that Leticia had given him; the other niche was placed below the hidden cubby where Harry kept his treasure box. This second niche was longer than it was wide and just a few inches above the mattress, an old towel was folded into thirds and placed on the bottom of the niche to serve as a temporary bed for Dragon.

Harry had just activated his nightlight stars and scattered them above the living area of the loft, since he already had stars and a nightlight in his sleeping area, when Glorthock and Glarthunk returned to the compound and joined them in the attic. The little pup, who was awake and currently following Harry everywhere he went, growled at the goblins until Harry told her to hush and picked her up. If either goblin was surprised by the presence of the two animals they didn't show it, though Dragon was given a closer look than the crup since it was a pure non-magical cat (meaning there was no kneazle blood in its ancestry). Glarthunk set a large present down on Harry's desk while Glorthock thanked Harry for the fine cloth and handed Harry a small thank you gift from Backbiter. Plopping down on the floor, Harry settled his crup in his lap before carefully opening the bronze colored paper to reveal a seamless square wooden box with three drawers on the front, two larger drawers on the back, and an open slot on the top.

"Is goblin moneybox," Glorthock explained (his English while much improved still a little shaky). "Money goes into hole on top and goblin magic cleans the coins, removes unwanted magic on coins, and sorts into drawers. Three on the front for goblin coins (one each galleons, sickles, and knuts) and two on the back for muggle paper money and coins put inside moneybox. Money inside can not be taken out by anyone except you. It will hold twenty-five thousand grams in weight (about fifty pounds) before magic locks top."

"Here, Harry," Trevor called as he walked over with a shoebox and placed it on the floor next to Harry after Glorthock finished his explanation. "Why don't you go ahead and try it out with some of the money you received today?"

Harry gave Trevor a wide grin and picked up a small handful of sickles and galleons and began dropping them into the box one at a time. Each time a coin dropped through the slot, there would be a red flash of light as the magic in the box cleaned and sorted the coin. When he dropped in the last coin in his hand, the top of the box flashed blue and four lines numbers appeared on the top. The first line indicated the total amount of grams currently in the box, the second listed the number of galleons, the third the number of sickles, and the final line indicated the total amount of money in galleons that the box contained. Putting in a dozen or so of the bronze knuts added a fifth line between the sickle tally and the total worth.

Out of curiosity, Harry pulled open the drawer labeled with a 'G' and picked up one of the cleaned galleons and compared it to one of the galleons still in the shoebox. The difference was amazing; the freshly cleaned galleon practically glowed while the other one looked dull and faded. The numbers and face on the coin also looked freshly minted, standing out in sharp contrast compared to the worn appearance of the other coin. After examining both coins intently, he tucked them back into the opening at the top and grabbed another handful of coins which he quickly emptied into the moneybox.

He managed to empty out about half of the shoebox before the top opening of the box suddenly flashed a bright green and disappeared from sight. Startled, he glanced at the numbers and saw that the first line, indicating the weight, was flashing red and green to indicate it had reached the maximum weight allowed. The total amount of money inside was listed just over five hundred galleons. Shrugging, he placed the money box inside the shoebox and asked Trevor if he would place both of them on the desk for him.

Glarthunk then handed Harry the last present, which had been waiting on his desk until now. Removing the wrapping paper revealed a carved wooden box the exact same size and shape of the treasure box Glorthock had given Harry on his birthday. Even the stained wood looked very similar, though the corner brackets and lock were made out of burnished copper instead of cast iron. The dragon carving on the lid was different too, this one looking like the Chinese Fireball in the painting Trevor had given him while the previous dragon carving looked more like a common welsh green (one of the first things Harry had looked up in his dragon book).

Lifting open the lid, he found the inside completely different. For one thing, the inner lid was lined with a green felt so dark it almost looked black and had three shelves that were divided into ten sections each and covered with miniature glass doors with copper handles and hinges. The lower section looked like a revolving door made of shelves tilted on their side and tucked into the box. The shelves were identical to the three inside the lid except the insides were not lined with felt, just bare wood that had been sanded smooth and stained a more natural oak. Two dark emeralds, cut into the shape of triangles, were embedded into the middle on top of the left hand side of the box, with the top most one pointing towards the back of the box and the lower one pointing towards the front. When Harry ran a finger over one of them, the shelves in the bottom half of the box rotated in the direction the tip of the triangle was pointing.

Fascinated, Harry played with the buttons for a bit while watching the shelves rotate until a flash of silver caught his eye. Backing the rotating shelves up a bit, he found that a group of figures had been placed inside the shelf that he'd stopped on. The first three figures were human and looked remarkably like Harry, Trevor, and Leticia. The next two were goblins and looked like Glorthock and Glarthunk while next to them was a silver dragon – the flash of color that had caught his eyes. Beside the dragon, made from real ivory, was a miniature pterodactyl figure. The last three cubby holes in that shelf were filled with three identical looking geese that looked remarkably similar to the greater white fronted geese that had chased Harry and Trevor through the fields earlier that year. Harry's suspicions proved to have merit when he set one of the geese on the floor beside the miniature of Trevor and the goose began to chase mini Trevor. Jack, who had not witnessed the actual event, but heard stories about it later, roared with laughter at the site of a three inch goose chasing a three inch Trevor all around the floor.

The goblins were grinning mischievously as Glorthock explained that this treasure box was designed to hold all of his magical, and non-magical, figurines. The box would hold up to two hundred and fifty such figures if he only put one in each mini-cubby as there were twenty-two shelves in the turnstile and three in the lid and even more if he doubled up the smaller ones. Pushing the box to one side, Harry reached out and gave the startled Glorthock a hug before turning and giving another to Glarthunk.

By the time Harry climbed into his bed, he'd lovingly placed all of his toy figures into individual cubby holes, with his favorites going into the shelves on the lid, all of them except his first beloved dragon, which he still slept with in his pajama pocket. The toy box then joined the treasure box in the hidden niche above his bed. Dragon was placed into her special sleeping cubby and the pup, still nameless, was given a towel at the foot of the bed against the south wall so she wouldn't roll out of the bed or shed hairs all over Harry's pillow. Trevor pulled the blankets up and brushed a kiss across Harry's brow as Harry gave him a hug asking the child if he needed company tonight. Harry almost said yes but a quick glance down at where the puppy was laying on her belly watching him made him change his mind. He now had two friends who'd sleep with him from now on; he'd be okay. Trevor reminded Harry that the Younglings would be down on the open floor of the attic if he should change his mind later.

Harry snuggled down beneath his covers and smiled as he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep; his dreams soon happily filled with puppies, kittens, and dragons.

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> _I have to say that I really enjoyed shipping Lockhart off to jail for the rest of the holidays. He's an easy character to hate because he seems so shallow and self-centered. I'm curious as to how many of you had guessed that I've had had him stealing fan-mail from various celebrities though. I know tons of authors have had him stealing stories from various people (that is canon behavior after all) but I don't think I've ever read any other stories where he's actually stealing fan mail and gifts that aren't his (meaning fan mail gained through his stolen stories as opposed to outright theft of mail addressed to someone else). Anywho… I hope I managed to surprise a few people as I think most everyone expected Lockhart to be one of the individuals whose vaults ended up with numerous coins from Amelia's project… which he isn't. _

_Next chapter will be up tomorrow… hopefully a little earlier in the day then these last few have been but I've been busy writing and cleaning house as I prepare to put our critters down to bed for the winter here since it's starting to get too cold to feed them. Hope you enjoyed the chapter! ~ Jenn_

_For those who were alerted that chapter sixteen was also just added, you can ignore it as I was simply reposting the chapter after fixing a slight grammatical error that a reviewer helpfully pointed out. =)  
><em>


	18. Foreshadowing the Future

**Disclaimer: **_All HP characters are the property of JKR, the WB, and respective publishing companies - this is nothing more than a simple FanFiction that I have written. I have made no money from this or any of the other stories I have posted on this or other sites._

**AN:** _Story beta'd by my R/L daughter Sillyhobbit_.

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><p><em><strong><span>Chapter 18: Foreshadowing the Future<span>**_

_December 28, 1985 10:05 AM _

"Mrs. Weasley? Mr. Matheson will see you now," Rebecca announced to one of the seven people currently sitting in various chairs around the lobby of the Samson, Matheson, and Carter International London office. Trevor was spending the entire day at the office, for the first time in months, interviewing prospective tutors and security guards.

The large, matronly woman with bright orange-red hair rose to her feet and gave the secretary a forced smile as she shook invisible wrinkles out of her robes. Rebecca simply pointed in the direction of the conference room that had been set aside for the purpose of the interviews and snapped her gum loudly to the irritation of the older witch.

"No respect, barbarians to say the least," Molly muttered under her breath as she passed the desk. She flinched slightly when the gum was snapped a second time and barely restrained herself from glaring at the younger blonde. Without knocking she pushed through the indicated door and was surprised to find a small tribunal of three men, one woman, and a goblin sitting behind a single rectangular table and a single stool propped in front of the table.

"Molly Weasley? Please have a seat on the stool and we shall begin the interview," the man in the middle, who she knew was the squib Trevor Matheson, instructed as he placed the parchment of her application down on the table in front of him. "I am Trevor Matheson, as you may have guessed; to my right are Klouse Carter, my partner, and Glorthock, head of my goblin security. To my left are Leticia Hall, Mr. Potter's governess and primary instructor, and Eric Masters, one of my security advisors and head of the wizarding protection agents. Your application states that you wish to tutor Mr. Potter in wizarding etiquette and the primary basics of reading, writing, and counting. Is this correct?"

"Yes, I feel I can provide young Harry a stable and nurturing –"

"Mrs. Weasley," Trevor interrupted, causing Molly's face to flush red. "At this time the role of primary teacher has been fulfilled by Mr. Potter's governess and all etiquette classes Mr. Potter will attend will be informal rather than structured. If there are no other skills or knowledge you wish to offer, I'd like to thank you for your application and bid you good day."

"I have a wealth of household knowledge and wizarding etiquette that can be passed on to Harry –"

"Mr. Potter."

"Yes, to Mr. Potter," Molly sourly parroted, "as I was saying I believe I can provide the dear child with a strong sense of moral values and teach him proper decorum by giving him a loving environment…"

"Madam Weasley, we are discussing a tutoring contract," Klouse stated as he cut her off this time. "What you speak of has nothing to do with structured education."

"I am the mother of seven wonderful children and my experience will surely allow me to handle much of Harry's educational needs. I only wish to love the boy as I love my own children and give him a proper feeding while he learns how to behave as a proper wizard."

"Mrs. Weasley, your services are not wanted or needed. Thank you for applying," Trevor said abruptly as he dumped her application on the pile of rejected forms. "I trust you can find your way out?"

"You need to reconsider, my children can help Harry see how to behave as a proper wizard and learning in groups is much easier than teaching a single child as the children need to have competition in order to better prepare for life after Hogwarts."

"There will be no reconsideration, ma'am," Klouse interjected. "We have a strict set of standards and requirements for the tutors we hire."

"I'd gladly take little Harry home with me in the afternoons then; to allow him play time to be with children his own age."

"Witch Weasley," Glorthock barked his in guttural voice, his accent thick as he was still struggling with forming some of the sounds of the English language. "You have seven younglings of your own. How much time would you have for an eighth?

"Love doesn't count numbers when it comes to matters of the heart," Mrs. Weasley declared snootily as she stared down her nose at the goblin.

"As I stated earlier, Mrs. Weasley, your services are not needed at this time."

"My word," Molly exclaimed as she began losing control of her temper. "How do you expect Harry to learn proper behavior from a creature that can barely communicate? Let alone leave him in the hands of a floozy such as this unmarried muggle woman of questionable morals and a childless squib; neither of which can be proper wizarding role models to such an important boy as Harry!"

"How dare you!" Leticia gasped in outrage over the fat woman's accusation.

"Mrs. Weasley, clearly your prejudices are the last thing we wish to expose Mr. Potter to during this most fragile time in his recovery and education. In fact," Trevor growled formidably, "I don't believe there will ever be a time when pureblood bigotry will be incorporated into his classes; except perhaps the knowledge that it exists in the wizarding world, if only so _Mister_ Potter can protect himself from opinions such as yours. Do not contact us again; any future applications you submit will be incinerated without consideration. The door is behind you."

"Well, it's clear that you will ruin Harry for polite society and create a social outcast of the child! After all, if you can attack great wizards like Albus Dumbledore and Gilderoy Lockhart with your lies, what kind of proper education and examples can you give that boy?"

"You have eight second to leave this room without another word and twelve seconds to leave this building, before I order Mr. Masters and Glorthock to escort you from the premises and file charges against you for slander," Trevor ground out as his eyes narrowed. "One… two…"

Mrs. Weasley was out the door before he got to four; her face beat red with suppressed fury. Trevor wilted into his chair and growled under his breath as he thought about the things that woman had said and dared to imply. A short gesture with his hand sent Glorthock out the door in the forceful woman's wake to insure that she had left the premises completely. When he returned, the goblin was followed by a nervous young man with lanky brown hair. Once again Trevor confirmed the identity of the man, Richard Jones, and introduced himself and the other members of the interview panel before getting down to business.

"You are applying for a general tutoring position, correct? Can you please tell me which subjects you believe are your strongest and any teaching experience you have working with those subjects?"

"My strongest two subjects have always been Ancient Runes and Arithmancy, and while I've had an easy time understanding the Magical Theory behind the spells in Charms and Transfiguration, my spell casting has always been on the weak side. During my last three years at Hogwarts, I tutored the younger students on various theories and helped them memorize their runes and formulae. I wasn't the highest scoring student out of my peers but I scored reasonably well on both my O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s."

"Why are you interested in becoming Mr. Potter's tutor? Why not take a job with the Ministry or apply to Hogwarts?"

"I want to teach, Mr. Matheson, and there are limited opportunities to do so in the wizarding world, which is the only side I'm qualified to teach in, and as a muggleborn Hufflepuff I have no connections and no outstanding talents that would qualify me to join the vaunted Ministry or secure a position in Hogwarts."

"Ah, I do understand your position. How do you feel about working with muggles, squibs, and goblins? Specifically, reporting to a muggle woman regarding day to day activities and problems?"

"I have no issues with any of the races, or non-magicals, and have no trouble working with my superiors regardless of their magical status or gender."

"Shall we review the contract then?" Trevor asked as he pulled one of the many blank contracts out of his briefcase.

Along with Mr. Jones there were seven other tutors hired that day in addition to another twelve security guards and one full time healer, since Jake Weber couldn't always be at the compound to take care of the day to day injuries of the staff. Jake would, of course, continue to be Trevor and Harry's personal healer. The healer and guards would be starting first thing on Monday, while most of the tutors wouldn't be starting until March or May, depending on the subject and Harry's medical treatment schedule. Those hired to teach the magical courses would be focusing strictly on theory for the next two or three years, allowing Harry's magic to mature and stabilize. This would also give him time to build up his muscle strength after the last of his bones had been replaced and allow him to gain better control over his motor skills.

_December 28, 1985 All Day _

When Harry had gone to bed the night before, he'd been disappointed to learn that both Leticia and Trevor would be gone all day. It would be the first time both of the main adults in his life wouldn't be close by since he'd woken up during the summer in the hospital. The only reason he didn't have an accidental outburst this time, was because he knew he wouldn't actually be alone and Jack had promised to help him climb up to his tree fort that the security team had built for him in the small copse of black poplars outside. He also had the comforting presence of Dragon and the newly named Gwinn, the kitten and puppy he'd received as Christmas gifts three days earlier. His little female crup had actually been named after Queen Guinevere from the legend of King Arthur; the idea prompted by the latest story Leticia had begun reading to him by Mark Twain, _A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court_.

Gwinn and Dragon still didn't really care for one another but they were young enough that the fights one or the other instigated didn't cause any lasting injuries. Both animals loved being lavished with attention, eating treats offered by Harry, and following Harry wherever he went, even outside. Inside the house, Dragon usually perched on Harry's shoulder or draped herself over Harry's neck while Gwinn claimed Harry's lap when he was sitting or hovered around his feet; sometimes causing Harry to trip over the excitable pup.

After breakfast, for both Harry and his voracious pets, he spent an hour carefully printing his name inside a couple of dozen of the hundreds of thank you cards that Leticia had prepared for him over the previous couple of days. She had addressed each card, written out a brief message thanking the individual or family for their gift, and asked Harry to print his name on the bottom of each one as best he could. It was a difficult task for the five year old but each time he sat down to work on the seemingly endless pile he got just a little better. Each evening, Trevor would gather the 'signed' cards and send them off with the dozen owls he'd purchased for wizarding correspondence, each owl taking up to five letters. Harry had watched the process once, while holding an excited Gwinn in his arms so she didn't frighten the birds away, and asked how each bird knew who each letter was for and where to find them. The simple answer, magic, only made Harry snort as it was an answer many people gave him when the long answers were more involved and more difficult to understand.

After the hour spent writing his name, Harry asked Jack if he could rub some muscle salve on his sore arms and fingers to sooth the ache of using the still healing muscles for the full hour. Another hour was spent doing the stretches and exercises that Healer Weber had taught him to do in order to strengthen his leg muscles followed by a long soak in the tub and a second application of the salve. Lunch was spent in the basement with the goblins practicing his gobbledygook with the Younglings under the supervision of Stonegut. The rest of the afternoon was spent with Jack and Hobblefoot out in his secret playground riding the swings and exploring the tree house.

Getting up to the tree house was no easy task for Harry, who was still largely dependant on others to carry him up stairs and over obstacles that couldn't be maneuvered around if he was using his braces. Since Harry couldn't limb up the ladder by himself, Hobblefoot (being the stronger of the two guards watching over him) secured him to his chest and carried him up to the top while Jack carried his braces. Once up inside the tree house, Hobblefoot set him down on his feet and he looked out through the branches of the tree with a look of wonder on his face.

Inside the tree fort, Harry was surprised to find kid sized chairs, tables, and cabinets scattered in the first room. There was even a fancy telescope attached to the outermost window so he could look out over the fields or up into the sky. Moving into the next room, he found ceiling to floor bookshelves, kid sized armchairs, a couple of small desks, a single table, and another telescope attached to the outer wall window. The third room had four sets of bunk beds, a miniature wardrobe, two telescopes (one facing the playground below), and a toy chest at the foot of each bottom bunk.

The forth room was by far the longest one he'd explored so far, and it curved out towards the westernmost edge of the copse. Inside, pushed up against the innermost wall, were several kid sized dining tables and chairs. It looked something like the mess hall off the side of the barracks with room enough to sit thirty children at least. Along the outermost wall, there were four more telescopes at each of four windows and in-between the windows were cabinets filled with thick plastic dishes and cutlery.

Next was a classroom complete with chalkboards, rows of old schoolhouse desks, a 'teacher's' desk, and a half bookshelf that stretched across the outer wall. It was the only room they'd explored up to this point without at least one telescope. The sixth room was more of a tower with a wrap around staircase that rose up at least two full levels to an observation deck with four telescopes mounted (one facing each of the four cardinal directions).

On the other side of the tower was another bedroom identical to the first bedroom. Next to that was what could only be called a playroom, with a huge blue shag rug covering the entire floor, an opening that proved to be the top of the slide, a fireman's pole the led into a dark tube (which Harry was told was actually the inside of a tree trunk with a hidden door at the base that was a hidden exit), a huge net enclosed ball pit (the kind you find at fast food restaurants filled with thousands of small plastic balls), and a climbing net attached to the outer wall. It was the perfect room to spend time in on a rainy day.

The next room was a large bathroom with two showers, two sinks, two enclosed toilets, a large bathtub, two mirrors that hung over the sinks, two large mirrors on the back of each door, and a built in cupboard filled with towels, toilet paper, and soap. Second to last room had a huge indoor wading pool (which Harry studiously ignored) in a room the same size as the dining hall. There were bins along one wall containing large beach towels and water toys as well as a stack of folding pool side chairs that could be set out around the pool. The last room was another bathroom, this one with obvious feminine décor, which made Harry blush a bright red as Jack explained that girls needed a bathroom of their own sometimes.

Each of the rooms were interconnected to each other so that a person could move from room to room as they pleased. There were also two wrap around porches, one on the inside and one on the outside of the circular fort. The inner porch had a trio of rope bridges bisecting the open space in the middle over the playground below, allowing for people to quickly cross to the other side of the fort without having to walk all the way around. The outside porch had additional telescopes posted every twelve feet, spaced so that they fell in between those mounted at the various windows inside. The entire building made an ideal clubhouse fort.

After the grand tour, the group returned to the indoor playground and spent time wading through the ball pit before testing out the slide a dozen or more times. Hobblefoot turned a nasty shade of green each time he slid down the slide but he refused to shirk his duty of protecting Harry by leaving his side. Harry later gave the queasy goblin a selective assortment of the goblin treats he'd received for Christmas from the Younglings, thanking the goblin for taking him down the slide so many times. From that day forward, Hobblefoot added a thin sash of blue fabric to his uniform, tied around his left arm, as a badge of honor for surviving the sky fort and Plunge of Death, which is what the goblins nicknamed the thirty foot drop slide. Only five additional goblins would later go on to earn what they soon called skybadges; Glorthock, Glarthunk, Axenose, Beestung (the younger goblin cook who was infatuated with Glorthock), and surprisingly Stonegut.

Supper that evening was a lively affair, with Harry explaining excitedly about his first venture up into the tree fort. Afterwards, while Leticia helped get Harry ready for bed and read him a few pages from their current story, Trevor entered the barracks and personally thanked the security guards that were still awake and not out patrolling the Compound, letting them know that their gift had given the mostly reserved child back a piece of his childhood.

Sunday was a near repeat of Saturday, except Trevor and Glorthock joined Harry and Jack (Hobblefoot needing time to recover from hiding his abject fear of heights the day before). Leticia joined them for a few hours in the afternoon but otherwise spent the day putting together tentative schedules for the classes that the new tutors would be teaching once they started and making sure the books they requested were either already on hand or ordered so that they would have them when their lessons began. Unknown to Harry, Leticia carried a camera with her when she joined them in the fort for a little while, taking lots of photos that would later be developed, duplicated, enlarged, and presented to the entire security team so they could see how much Harry loved their gift instead of just hearing about it.

Invitations to a New Year's party were handed out to the families of the children who had gone trick-or-treating with Harry were issued that evening. With additional invitations extended to all of the security guards that were not scheduled to be on duty on New Year's Eve. Trevor spent an hour with the cooks planning the buffet for the occasion, selecting a wide array of dishes. Another few minutes with the maids and handymen set the plans for decorating the ballroom that had been built using magic on the ground floor. Trevor then headed upstairs to spend a few minutes with Harry before tucking him into bed.

_December 30, 1985 All Day_

Trevor ate breakfast with Harry up in the attic that morning before heading into the office in order to conduct a few more interviews and help give the two new junior partners their orientation. The two men, one a muggle just out of law school and the other a muggle raised squib that had worked for another firm for eight years, would be taking over Trevor's muggle case loads and helping Timothy Samson as the elder partner prepared for his eventual retirement three years down the road. After the semi-argument with Klouse earlier in the month, Trevor had given serious thought to the younger wizard's words and request. He'd come to the conclusion that Klouse had been correct in his assessments and wondered how he'd gotten so out of touch with the day to day running of the firm over the last several months.

He knew the biggest factor was the insertion of Harry into his life but he wouldn't change that for all the money or magic in the world. He'd grown to love the young child who was still struggling to come to terms with the verbal and mental abuse his aunt and uncle had heaped upon him during the years he lived with them, the physical scars fading a little more each day as his little body recovered and slowly flourished with proper care and food. He couldn't bring himself to spend six or seven days a week buried under mountains of paperwork while Harry was at a crossroads in his recovery. Distancing himself from the boy would likely make him withdraw back into his shell, even if it was an unintentional result of working the typical long hours of an attorney.

In time, Harry wouldn't need the near constant contact as the boy learned to trust other people and truly began his real education. He'd still make time to be there for the special events and important appearances, there was no doubt about that; but once Harry was older he'd be able to return to work on a not quite full time basis. Until then, he needed to give his full attention to Harry and make sure things were taken care of at the office. The end result was the two new lawyers, one with enough experience under his belt to help pick up the slack right away and the other young enough to adapt quickly by working directly with Tim. All that was left to do was hire another legal secretary or two, as Rebecca had chosen to follow Trevor to the Compound in order to help him keep up to date with new laws that were passed by parliament, and keep abreast of things at the firm.

Trevor also considered finding a young graduate from Hogwarts or another magical school interested in studying law that the firm could sponsor in the hopes that the young witch or wizard would be able to eventually work with Klouse on the magical side of their business. Klouse was, of course, open to the idea as there were currently very few witches and wizards that practiced law (and most of those were stuffy old purebloods).

This morning, before the handful of interviews scheduled for right after lunch, Trevor would spend helping Klouse prepare the newest cases that would be presented to the Wizengamot on January sixth. These would include the suit against Lockhart, Rita Skeeter, the publishers of the Harry Potter books, and the manufacturers of the unauthorized memorabilia. Also included was a second suit against Dumbledore for attempting to kidnap Harry for a second time, by turning Christmas gifts into illegal portkeys. Amelia had also asked Trevor and Klouse to prosecute the soon to be announced Death Eater Appeal Trials whose cases would be reopened in light of the new information provided by one Lucius Malfoy prior to his admittance to Azkaban.

Back at the Compound, Harry was meeting his new tutors for the first time; though most of them would not actually start teaching him for a few more months yet. Leticia had invited them all to the compound so that they could be given a tour of the facilities, receive their security passes (after they passed through the security scans), and be introduced to their pupil. Harry was a little intimidated by the large group of adults and spent his time in their company hiding behind Leticia every chance he got, much to the amusement of most of the tutors.

While Leticia led the tutors on their tour, Harry did his morning exercises and signed more thank you cards before joining the group for lunch in the upstairs dining room. It was Harry's first time eating on the first floor, usually taking his meals downstairs in the formal dining room, the family dining room near the kitchen, or upstairs in his attic. This room was about halfway between the size of the formal and family dining rooms and instead of one large table that would sit a large group; it had several smaller tables that would seat between four and eight people. It was paneled in pale pine with dark green draperies accenting the two large windows and while welcoming, it wasn't as inviting as the family dining room and Harry felt self conscious as he ate his grilled cheese and sliced goat meat sandwich and politely sipped his tomato soup.

Immediately after lunch, Harry spent another hour printing his name on thank you cards, the unsigned pile steadily growing shorter all the time. When he finished, he took Dragon and Gwinn upstairs to his attic with the help of Jack and gave them their lunches, which consisted of left over goat meat from lunch shredded into small pieces and mixed with their regular food. After Leticia saw the tutors off, she joined them and worked with Harry on his spelling and simple addition before reading him the last several pages of chapter six in _A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court._ Harry was then given the rest of the afternoon off to play.

He spent some time watching his miniature magical dragons skimming across the top of the long green carpet while his iron dragon from Lettie sat buried in the fibers beside him. Every once in a while one of the flying dragons would circle around the frozen model and roar at it in a tinny voice before flying off in a puff of smoke. Gwinn loved chasing the flying models, which always made Harry giggle as her tiny little legs would sometimes get caught up in the long shag of the carpet and she'd end up tumbling over before getting up and following the dragons once more. Dragon never chased the models but she did swipe at them from her seat on Harry's shoulder if they came too close. The kitten much preferred chasing strings and feathers to flying objects or playing with her catnip stuffed denim mouse.

Trevor joined him around four in the afternoon, looking tired and rumpled. The older man greeted Harry warmly and gave both animals a brief pat before heading down to change out of his suit. This was Harry's signal to put away his toys and head downstairs for a light afternoon tea. Slingstone carried Harry down to the family dining room where they joined Leticia and a refreshed looking Trevor for tea and crumpets.

After tea, Trevor spent some time checking on the preparations for the New Year's party that would be taking place the following night, while Lettie and Slingstone took Harry out to the playground for a little while to let Harry spend a bit of time on the swings. While Leticia pushed Harry, Slingstone roamed the edges of the playground checking for weaknesses in the protective wards that had been placed around the edge of the copse to insure they were not weakening. Dragon stalked the goblin through the long grass while Gwinn yipped and chased butterflies through the brush and flowers at the edge of the clearing.

Supper that night was a simple affair of shepherd's pie, steamed vegetables, roasted potatoes coated with garlic and pepper, and fresh baked bread with peach cobbler and vanilla ice cream for desert. Trevor then spent the evening teaching Harry how to play checkers and gobstones while Leticia left to visit her parents.

_December 31, 1985 7:25 PM _

Once again Harry was dressed in yet another set of formal robes. This time he was wearing tan slacks, a pale cream colored dress shirt with a dark brown tie, matching cumberbund, and dark brown suede boots. His over robe was made from forest green velvet and brought out the green of his eyes behind his glasses. An ivory lily had been pinned to the left side of his robes and his hair, now nearly two inches long, combed and spiked to help tame its typical wildness. Dragon and Gwinn were eating supper as neither animal would be allowed downstairs tonight to prevent them from being accidentally stepped on by careless guests.

Harry was nervous, far more than he had been before the Christmas Ball because he knew there would be far more children attending this evening's festivities whereas the gala had only had himself and Neville in attendance. At least Harry had met most of these children before; having spent an evening trick-or-treating with them back in October, though that wouldn't make him feel any more comfortable around them.

Trevor, wearing dove gray robes, a white shirt, and dark green slacks, entered the attic at that moment to see if Harry was ready to head down to the ballroom. Knowing it was pointless to fight the inevitable; Harry pocketed his favorite dragon model, allowed Trevor to pick him up, and the two of them started down the stairs with Hobblefoot and Glarthunk following behind. They were met on the first floor with by Lettie dressed in a pale yellow and green silk gown and a grinning Jack dressed in his uniform. Together, the six of them descended the final staircase and headed towards the ballroom where their guests had been gathering for the last half hour.

Just outside the entrance, Harry was set on his feet and helped into his braces before he was announced to the room. Harry sighed as he fleetingly glanced back at the stairs, longing to be safe and secure up in the attic with his critter friends, before finally pushing forward into the room.

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> _Almost finished… there's actually only one more chapter of the actual story left to post, since I ended up combining the final two chapters into one. Though, as promised I've been working on a series of cameos to give background information on all of the OC's that I've introduced in the story up to this point. The only two I won't be introducing, because I already gave their history in the story, will be Leticia and Trevor. Everyone else, including some of the goblins, will however have their history explored. _

_Posting on the sequel won't start until I actually finish writing the sequel; which is currently nearly half finished (I ran into a temper tantrum that just won't go away and then got invaded with Gundanium Plot Bunnies but I'm writing a few paragraphs here and there every other day). The story line is completely outlined so it's just a matter of connecting everything together and fleshing it out. _

_That said, the next update will be on Wizard's World tomorrow and the final official chapter of this story to be posted sometime on Sunday. Monday will see the first chapter of **Haunted** being posted. ~ Jenn_


	19. Here's Hoping for Peace and Quiet

**Disclaimer: **_All HP characters are the property of JKR, the WB, and respective publishing companies - this is nothing more than a simple FanFiction that I have written. I have made no money from this or any of the other stories I have posted on this or other sites._

**AN:** _Story beta'd by my R/L daughter Sillyhobbit_.

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><p><em><strong><span>Chapter 19: Here's Hoping for Peace and Quiet<span>**_

_December 31, 1985 7:35 PM _

There were close to three hundred people packed into the ballroom and all of them seemed to be focused on Harry as he walked in on his braces with two goblins following on his heels. It was a smaller crowd than the one that had been at the Ministry Christmas Ball though it didn't really seem that way because the ballroom was far smaller than the banquet hall. At least while these people stared at him they had no reason to crush him in a stampede to shake his hand, they wouldn't be likely to grab his arm to drag him off to who knows where, and they definitely wouldn't try to kidnap him. With the exception of a small handful of outside guests that were invited, including the office staff from the firm, these guests were comprised of the security force and household staff of the Compound and their families.

That didn't change the fact that Harry felt extremely uncomfortable being the center of attention. For as long as he could remember, he'd been kept hidden away from everyone except his aunt, uncle, and cousin. They had never let him go out where the neighbors could see him, never introduced him to anyone invited over to their house, and much preferred that he stayed hidden inside his cupboard on a near permanent basis; except when they wanted him to do chores. He had essentially gone from a virtual nobody to a celebrity overnight and it was still a hard concept to wrap his head around.

A group of children, a larger group then had gone out with him on Halloween, hovered off to the right. One of the older boys, one that Harry thought he remembered being dressed up in a blue costume with red cape, waved from the center of the group. Harry paused and pulled one arm out of his brace so he could shyly return the wave before moving further into the room. He had been told that he'd need to meet a few people before joining the other children to play a few games before the buffet would be served.

First to approach Harry was Klouse and the other lawyers that worked with Trevor. Klouse introduced the elderly Timothy Samson, Mitch Taylor (the newly hired squib), Hubert Clarke (the young Muggle fresh out of Oxford), and Betty Wilson (a new secretary) to Harry who reluctantly shook their hands. Next Harry met Eric Masters, the head of the wizarding and muggle security of the Compound. Mr. Masters then introduced his wife, Karen, and two sons, Oliver and Daniel ages three and one respectfully. Bob Carlson was next with his wife, Samantha, and younger sister, Rene. There were dozens of others Harry met, but their names slowly began to blur together as did the faces.

After nearly an hour walking around the room, Harry was finally escorted by Hobblefoot and Jack over to where the older children had gathered around a few game booths that had been set up to occupy the children during the party. The first to greet him was Stan Shunpike, the twelve year old who'd shaken his hand on Halloween. Harry smiled a little brighter at the boy as he kept the other children from pestering Harry with hundreds of questions and helped to introduce him to the other children. There were several older teens there too but they seemed to have better manners as they didn't rush forward and all talk at once. It was towards these older boys that Harry eventually gravitated, with Stan by his side, as the younger kids rowdily (and happily) returned to their games.

The mismatched group of about six teens close to adulthood, one preteen, one five year old, one goblin, and one adult drew the attention of several groups around the room more then once. Said group didn't seem to care about the extra attention though, as the older boys helped to teach Harry how to throw a ball at metal milk cans stacked in groups of six. When it became apparent that Harry was just too short and his arms not quite strong enough, one of the older teens, Jason Doherty, lifted Harry onto his shoulders and had him try it again. This time (due to his higher perch and gravity), Harry managed to knock two of the weighted metal bottles down and received a chocolate frog from the man working the booth.

Another booth was completely covered on all sides with a woman standing holding a bamboo fishing pole with a plastic hook on the string. Curious, Harry watched as each of the boys took turns 'fishing' over the edge of the booth and pulling out small paper bags filled with candy and small toys. Still perched on the Jason's shoulders, Harry with Jack's help, took a turn only after all the others had theirs and was excited as he felt the gentle tug on the rod shortly after dropping the hook over the top of the booth. His grin was wide and contagious as he opened the bag and discovered his first model car inside along with a pack of Barratt Catherine Wheels and a Lion Bar. He quickly added his chocolate frog to the bag as the group moved on to the next booth where they joined up with the younger kids again.

This booth had a table covered with several dozen small glass bowls filled nearly to the brim with water. Harry watched while the younger kids tossed ping pong balls onto the bowl filled table, trying to get one to land inside one of the bowls of water. Each time a child got a ball inside a bowl, they were handed a magical underwater model of their choice (there were about twenty different kinds, including mermaids, guppies, ornamental koi, clown fish, grindylows, dolphins, and kelpies in a wide assortment of colors). Once the younger children were finished, Jason carried Harry forward and told him he got to go first this time and passed the ping pong balls up one at a time to Harry as he tossed them at the table. Twice he managed to bounce a ball into a bowl to his astonishment and had to be prompted to select his prize models – he picked a kelpie because the water demon horse looked dragonish and one of the white and gold koi because he thought it looked neat. Like his other magical models, these ones moved and made sounds. The man working the booth said they could even go in the water, since they were protected with waterproofing spells. Those soon joined his other new treasures in the brown paper sack.

The final booth was filled with hundreds of balloons stuck to a large dart board, in order to get a prize you had to pop at least two balloons with the three darts provided. This was the only game Harry didn't try, he was afraid of hurting someone if he messed up when throwing the dart. Jason, however, played his turn for him and passed Harry the handheld mirror etched with the picture of a winged horse that he won when he popped three balloons in a row. Jack then took a turn and popped three balloons with one dart, much to the shock and amazement of all the younger teens. A second mirror was passed to Harry with a wink from the young guard, this one etched with a unicorn. Both mirrors were magical and the etchings neighed and reared up on their hind legs as Harry watched them.

Right about then a chime rang through the room announcing that the buffet was now open. Jason lowered Harry back to the ground and ruffled his hair as the group of children began splitting up to join their parents for the meal until it was just Jack, Hobblefoot, Harry, and Stan. When asked why he wasn't joining his parents, Stan said his father was working during the party and his mother had stayed home with his younger brother who was sick with the flu. Harry took a few minutes to work out what that meant and when he realized that Stan would have to eat alone he tugged on Jack's pant leg and asked if the older boy could join them. Jack glanced at Hobblefoot who shrugged and back to the twelve year old who had a hopeful look on his face; Stan really didn't want to eat alone. In the end, Jack said they could ask Trevor if there was room but didn't think that there would be a problem.

The small group headed over to join the line at the buffet where Leticia and Trevor were waiting for them. Trevor gladly gave permission for Stan to join their group when Harry asked, knowing Harry rarely asked for anything. Everyone but Harry grabbed a plate when they reached the first table, his hands fully occupied with his braces and bag of goodies. Trevor had anticipated this though and grabbed an extra plate for Harry while the child pointed out which dishes he wished to try.

Conversation over supper was varied as the two youngest discussed dragons and various muggle and wizarding games while the adults discussed the plans for the coming year. Harry managed to talk Stan into trying a couple of the goblin dishes while Stan convinced Harry to try a few of the more traditional English dishes, such as the Lancashire Hotpot and Toad in the Hole, which while not as spicy as the goblin fare still had enough kick for Harry to enjoy.

After supper, the children returned to the game booths while the adults danced for a couple of hours. Harry returning to the fishing game and the ping-pong toss because he liked those two games best. Stan then talked Harry into getting his face painted as the twelve year old spotted a couple of young witches painting silly designs on the younger children's faces with their wands. Somehow Harry managed to convince Stand to get his face done as well and Harry thought it was cool the way the lizard he'd been given crawled down from his face so that it was sitting on the back of his hand. He liked it even better when Jack whispered a suggestion to the older of the two witches and he ended up with a dragon that chased the lizard all over the place.

Next, Harry spent some more time being carried around and introduced to the parents of the older children he had hung out with over the course of the evening as well as some of the household staff. He briefly met Lucy's parents and Grace's older brothers as well. By this time it was drawing nearer to midnight and Harry was starting to drift in and out as he fought the drowsiness of staying up way past his bedtime.

Five minutes before midnight, Stan said a temporary goodbye to Harry as he left to join the other children while Harry was carried up to the dais that was set up on one end of the banquet hall where Trevor was waiting for him. A tired Harry soon found himself the center of attention again as all of the guests gathered near the dais holding glasses containing sparkling cider, champagne, white and red wines, and various fruit juices. Harry was given a crystal glass of white grape juice as the crowd of employees and friends began counting down the time loudly, all eyes focused on the large clock hanging on the wall behind the dais.

At exactly midnight, the ballroom was filled with a roar of voices welcoming in the New Year. The combined sound of over a hundred of party poppers and wizarding crackers being fired off simultaneously startled Harry into dropping his glass of juice before he could take a drink. It was a bad omen that went mostly unnoticed by the crowd, which was now singing _Auld Lang Syne._ If the magicals in the room had been paying any attention, they might have felt the ripple of magic that spread out and away from Harry as Glorthock offered the boy a sip of his goblin made wine so the child could complete his toast.

The witches and wizards patrolling the grounds might have felt the pulse of magic had it not dissipated long before it reached the edges of the property.

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><p>Far to the north a middle aged witch swore an oath and tossed her wine glass into the roaring fire, causing the flames to flare dangerously. Said woman glared contemptuously into the now fading fire, her entire countenance one of rage as her glorious plans of revenge had been well and truly reduced to ashes during the last six or seven months. Her unwitting minions had failed so spectacularly that there was nothing she could do to salvage her former plans. Flouncing away from the now dying fire, she began pacing frantically as she tried to think of some way to regain control of the situation without being forced to rely upon what she viewed as her incompetent puppets.<p>

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><p><em>January 1, 1986 1:37 AM <em>

Trevor helped an exhausted Harry out of his formal robes and into his favorite dragon covered pajamas before tucking the child into his bed. Dragon the kitten pounced on the pair from her cubby hole above Harry's head, demanding attention from both man and boy as she purred loudly and head butted them repeatedly. Gwinn, who was still trapped down on the floor at the base of the platform whined piteously at being left on the cold floor.

Harry giggled tiredly as a scratchy cat tongue ran over his nose as he tickled the excited kitten under her chin and behind her ears while Trevor scooped the whimpering crup off the floor and deposited her next to Harry. A warm pink tongue unexpectedly washing over Harry's ear caused him to squeal in merriment as he flopped away from the cold nose and wet tongue of his puppy. Dragon, offended at being dislodged from her perch on Harry's chest, yowled loudly and climbed back up into her cubby out of reach of the overly excited puppy. After two final licks, many head pats, and a belly rub, Gwinn was gently placed on her sleeping pillow at the foot of Harry's bed while Harry crawled under the covers and fell to sleep almost immediately as his head returned to his pillow. Trevor brushed a kiss over Harry's forehead and tucked the covers in snugly before retreating down to his bedroom on the ground floor.

Silence settled over the renovated and magically enhanced farmhouse as the exhausted revelers drifted off to sleep in their various quarters, most of the adults still feeling the effects of the alcohol that they had imbibed during the celebrations. Shift changes were completed with quiet efficiency as those who'd patrolled during the party headed off for some much needed rest while their replacements continued where the others had left off on their rounds.

Upstairs in the attic, as the goblin guards settled into their assigned posts, a little boy tossed and turned fitfully as his dreams were haunted by long forgotten nightmares of green lights, pleading voices, and high pitched laughter. His two furry companions whined and whimpered as they watched, the two animals feeling the magic that flooded the space that surrounded the entire bed. As the magic peeked, the crup let out a mournful howl as four new weights settled onto the bed with a loud pop. The unfamiliar weight and sound, combined with his disturbing dream pulled the boy abruptly out of his slumber, his wide fearful eyes making out large ears, oddly shaped noses, and huge eyes circling his bed.

A loud, squeaky voice announced in an excited voice, "Yous be Harry Potter!"

This proved to be too much for the little boy, as long forgotten memories from nearly two years earlier surfaced the moment the voice had spoken. Harry let out a piercing scream that echoed through the entire house before the pounding footsteps of running goblins in metal boots filled the loft as bright light exploded all around Harry, revealing the presence of four ragged and half starved house elves surrounding the boy hero to his guards.

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><p>*** <strong>THE END<strong> ***

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> _I know this chapter is small compared to the rest but it was even shorter before I combined it with chapter twenty which was the shorter of the two chapters. The sequel is still under construction though it is half written as I mentioned before (or close to it). I'll have the bonus cameo chapter up by this time next weekend, once I finished writing out the scenes for the original characters that I've created for this story. I've got about half of them done right now. I will post periodic updates on my author's page to let you know when the sequel will be posted (once it is finished) and will update the final chapter of this story with a note once the sequel has been posted. ~ Jenn_


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